Author: mchazen

Until departing on our Excellent Adventure, life pretty much followed a daily routine that was dictated by work, school, kids, etc.  The daily activities were pre-determined and the outcomes were fairly certain.  Now, except for some domestic chores, none of that applies.  Each day is discrete and very different from any other day.  Planning is vague and outcome is uncertain.  Today was another roll of the dice.

After a leisurely breakfast, we walked into the nearest real estate office that is within view of the RV park.  All we wanted to do was set an appointment, but we soon found ourselves talking with a very personable agent named Lana.  We described our situation and tried to convey our vague requirements.  After patiently listening she queried the database and gave us a list of properties to view in Glade Park, which is a community somewhat outside of town.

View from Colorado National Monument looking west towards Grand Junction.

Looking north from rim of Colorado National Monument towards Fruita. You can see the RV Park along the river.

Formations at Colorado National Monument.

More red rock formations at the Monument, on our way to Glade Park, Colorado.

Looking east from point near the crest of Colorado National Monument. At this point, we are almost on top of the mesa.

To reach Glade Park you must cross through the Colorado National Monument.  We could see the monument from the RV Park and it appeared to be a series of red cliffs bordering the southern edge of town.  We intended to visit the park during our stay, but driving to Glade Park would force the issue.  By the way, the RV park is named Monument RV Park.  Imagine that.

We entered the park and stopped at the ranger kiosk.  Explaining we were on the way to Glade Park, the ranger waived the $5.00 entrance fee.  It was our lucky day.

We had no idea how spectacular the rock formations or views of Grand Junction would be.  We stopped several times to enjoy the view and take some pictures.  Readers of this triplog are encouraged to view the pictures associated with this log entry.  The place was like a mini-Grand Canyon.

Glade Park was a crossroads with a general store that served as grocery, gas station, post office and source of local gossip.  The entire afternoon was spent driving along gravel roads, viewing properties and trying not to get lost.  We did see some promising properties and will probably ask the broker to arrange access to one particular piece.  However the highlight of the day was another conversation we got into with a local rancher.

Looking for a particularly elusive 40 acre plot, we wandered into a pretty wild area.  Asking the rancher for directions, he said he had some land for sale.  Imagine that.  If we bought a particular lot, he had 160 adjoining acres that were accessible to him only by horseback.  We went to investigate.  Our conclusion: too remote.  But our experiences of the day gave us more food for thought.

The return trip to Grand Junction followed a different route through the Colorado National Monument and dropped us at the east end of town.  The views weren’t quite as spectacular, but we enjoyed the ride.  Before returning to the coach, we stopped to spray-wash the mud from the Jeep and have some Mexican food that did not meet expectations.

The remainder of the day was spent preparing for our overnight trip to Vernal, Utah.

Before falling asleep, we reflected on the day’s events.  We saw some beautiful sights and talked with some interesting people.  Best of all, none of it was expected or planned.  I wondered what tomorrow would be like.

These past two days were quietly spent running errands and getting to know the Grand Junction area.

Yesterday we were tired from our Grand Mesa trip, so after a Walmart run for groceries, we stayed close to the coach.

Today, we drove to the small community of Palisades, which is at the east end of the Grand Junction area where I-70 follows the Colorado River into the mountains.  Equipped with real estate advertisements, we did a few property drive-bys.  While cruising through a section of small orchards, we got lost.  As the old saying goes, when you’re digging yourself into a hole, stop digging.  It was time to ask for directions.

This is where things got interesting.

When we pulled up next to a young farmer tending his orchard and asked for directions, a long conversation followed.  It seems that everyone has something for sale around here and he was soon in the back seat directing us to a four acre piece he wanted to sell.  What he had was a four acre peach orchard with a small beat up house he was trying to fix up enough to rent.  After he showed us around, it was time to do some quick thinking.  The conclusion: there was no way we wanted an orchard with a fixer-upper– I just retired from one career and didn’t need another.  We could both see there would be no deal and politely shook hands and went our separate ways.

Our chance encounter gave us food for thought.  Once again, we were undecided as to the type of property we want.  Do we want something close to town our in the sticks?  Do we want the privacy of a large lot or the convenience of a small lot?  Do we want raw land or a property with built structures?  It seems we keep going through the same scenarios that defy resolution.  Our only hope is that someday we will have an AHA! moment and stumble onto the perfect property via dumb luck.  There was only one thing left to do: discuss the problem over lunch at the closest Mexican restaurant.

We returned to the coach drowsy from the heavy lunch.

I had an appointment at the local college to talk with an advisor.  If we really did settle here I wanted to make sure there were opportunities for continuing education, even if it was at the Junior College level.  Walking onto the campus was a humbling experience.  It didn’t take long to realize most of the students were not much older than my grandchildren.  Man, did I feel old.  Most amusing was the pre-interview form.  One of the questions asked if I planned to participate in varsity athletics.  I always wanted to play college football and this seemed like my big chance.  However, cooler heads prevailed and “No” box was checked.

The advisor was somewhat puzzled by the meeting, but once I explained the situation he was quick to size things up.  An hour had been allotted, but we were done in 15 minutes.  Mercifully I was able to leave the campus without anyone offering to help me across the street.

The remainder of the day was spent at the coach reading and watching TV.

Today would be a day of exploration.  The plan was to make a loop along highway 65 through portions of the Grand Mesa National Forest.  Our route would take us through the small towns of Mesa, Colbran, Cedaredge, Delta and back to Grand Junction.  Before setting out, we had no idea it would be some of the most scenic country we would ever see.

In retrospect, there is almost too much to tell and words cannot adequately describe the sights.  Pictures don’t do it justice either, although you are encouraged to look at the photos associated with this log entry.  There are a few highlights that I’ll try to describe here.

Vega Lake above the town of Colbran, Colorado.

View from the north rim of Grand Mesa, looking north towards the Colorado River valley.

Looking north along the edge of Grand Mesa.

Jeanne posing in front of aspen trees in Grand Mesa National Forest.

View along top of Grand Mesa.

Another view along top of Grand Mesa. There were many small lakes hidden among the trees.

Marty posing in front of aspen.

Jeanne walking along gravel road used by hunters.

One of the many lakes in Grand Mesa National Forest.

The top of Grand Mesa is high — well above 10,000 feet.  We approached the mesa from the north and the aspen were already starting to change color.  Much of the road was flanked by stands of bright yellow aspen separated by deep green pines.  At the top of the mesa, there were hundreds of lakes.  This is no exaggeration.  In any direction, the terrain is rugged, remote and unforgiving.  Even with clear skies and a bright sun, the air was cool.

On top of the mesa are several gravel roads used by hunters.  Taking one of these roads, the views off the edge of the mesa seemed to go on forever.  We stopped at one of the lakes and talked with the only guy in the campground.  He had been fishing the entire week.  We also stopped to talk with one of the park rangers.  One thing is clear: if you are into outdoor activities, this is one of the places you want to visit.

After descending the south side of the mesa, we passed through the town of Delta.  The rest of the trip would be along the same road, US-50, we took to reach Grand Junction.

We were tired from the trip and decided to stop for dinner at an Olive Garden.  After fueling the Jeep, we returned to the coach.

The rest of the evening was spent reflecting on the experiences of the day and preparing the CHFC financial statements.  All in all, it was a was a great day full of wonderful sights.

When the morning sun defrosted the coach, we hit the road.  Our destination was Grand Junction and the route would keep us on US-50 for the entire day.

Shortly after leaving Gunnison, we approached Blue Mesa Lake, which is a 20 mile long reservoir fed by the Gunnison River.  After crossing portions of the lake several times and pulling over the 7,900 foot Cero Summit, the road finally straightened out.  Passing through Montrose, the road was a divided four lane highway all the way to Grand Junction.  And, it was downhill all the way.  What a relief, mountain driving requires your full attention all the time.

The campground is in the small town of Fruita, which is just west of Grand Junction.  After stopping to fuel the coach, we pulled in about 2:00 PM and set up.  We then headed straight for the Walmart Supercenter to stock up on groceries.

Upon return, the sun was off the front of the coach and I got about scrubbing the collection of smashed bugs from the windshield.  The weather here is dry and warm and they were cemented but good.  With the bugs gone and sunscreens installed, we are ready for a two-week stay.

Contemporary Note:  Someone once asked what it was like driving a motorhome.  After reflecting for a moment, I said it was like being six inches from disaster all day long.

It was really cold last night.  Although the daytime highs are in the 70s, it drops into the high 20s at night.  The water line froze and we had to use the internal water and pump until the hose thawed out.  Everything outside was covered with a layer of frost.

We didn’t want to waste the day, so we had a quick breakfast and immediately started exploring.  After a short walk along the Gunnison River, our first stop was a county park a little outside of town called Hartman Rocks.  The place was laced with gravel roads and seemed to be a magnet for mountain bikers.  We drove to one of the lookouts and spent a few minutes taking in the overview of Gunnison, Colorado.  We see some strange things on the road, but one of the strangest was a college-aged couple hitting golf balls off a cliff into a deep canyon below.  It looked like fun, but it was not the smartest thing to do.  Anyone unfortunate enough to be struck by one of these dimpled meteors would be killed instantly.  I wonder how long it takes for a golf ball to decompose in this arid environment.

We stopped at Pizza Hut for what was suppose to be a quick lunch, but two high school teams had gotten there before us.  In addition to outside orders, the waitress said they cooked over 75 pizzas for lunch.  It took an hour to get through lunch and we even received a job offer to help.  We declined the offers.

Jeanne along the banks of the Taylor River, north of Gunnison, Colorado.

Marty posting for picture along the banks of the Taylor River.

Craggly rocks typical along the Taylor River canyon.

Jeanne searching the Colorado backcountry for pine cones.

View of Gunnison, Colorado from Hartman Rocks. View is looking north.

After the Pizza Hut debacle, we headed north toward the ski town of Crested Butte, which turned out to be a nice place in a spectacular setting.  It is literally at the end of the road.  On the way back we returned to the Taylor River and pulled off the road at a quiet spot.  Not in any hurry, we found flat rocks to sit on along the bank and enjoyed the sunny afternoon.  It was one of those unique experiences — the longer you sat there the more detail you saw.  In the changing light, the view was never the same from minute to minute.  We were warm and cool at the same time.  The side facing the sun was warm and getting sunburned, while the side facing away from the sun was cold from the breeze blowing through the canyon.  What a nice way to spend an afternoon.  Next time, I’ll bring my fishing pole.

Eventually we returned to the coach, had dinner and prepared for another cold night.  In the dry, thin air, the temperature can drop 40 degrees.  Tomorrow we set off for Grand Junction.

We woke to clear skies that promised to be perfect for travel.  After a quick breakfast, we did the last-minute preparation to leave.

It seemed strange moving on.  We had been in the Colorado Springs area for almost two months and the town was beginning to be familiar to us.  The stay was enjoyable, but this wasn’t the place to permanently settle.  So, our quest continues.

The last of the equipment was stowed, wastewater tanks were drained, water was disconnected and the power plug was pulled.  Jeanne turned the ignition key and after a month of inactivity, the motor rumbled to life.  The suspension aired up, slides were pulled in, landing gear was retracted and blocks were stowed.  The coach was moved onto pavement and the Jeep was hitched.  One last check and we were on our way.  Goodbye Colorado Springs.

Our eventual destination was Grand Junction, Colorado, which is on the west side of the state, almost to the Utah border.  The plan was to make the trip in two parts, spending two nights in Gunnison, Colorado, which is about half way.  The route would take us over US-50.  The challenge of the day would be getting over the crest of the Rocky Mountains via the 11,300 foot Monarch Pass.

We quickly left Colorado Springs behind and started into the mountains in the small town of Canon City.  For about half the drive, the road followed the Arkansas river.  The drive was scenic, but the winding road required my full attention to navigate.  At the small town of Salida we started a slow ascent towards Monarch Pass.  In the thin air, the coach wheezed up the hill.  Fortunately, we were behind a 18-wheeler that would pace us on this portion of the drive.  Obviously, the driver knew the road and was not in any hurry.  Portions of the road were being improved and flagmen stopped us twice to allow for one-way traffic.  The truck headed the procession, followed by us and a long line of cars.  After what seemed like the world’s longest drive, we made it to the summit.  It would be all downhill to Gunnison from here.

The descent wasn’t any easier.  Following the truck down the hill, we both used our engine brakes to hold us back.  The noise echoed through the canyon and must have been annoying to the cars behind us.  Our top speed downhill was 25 miles per hour.  The three runaway truck ramps were not-so-subtle reminders to keep our speed under control.

Eventually the road flattened out, the truck sped off and the cars passed.  With the traffic behind us held up by the construction, we were all alone.  We noticed the stream running beside the road was now flowing west, which meant we crossed the Continental Divide.  Any rainfall or snowmelt would eventually make its way down the Colorado River to the Sea of Cortez.  This was the same water source that formed the Salton Sea we visited while staying in Indio, California.

Around 2:00 PM, we pulled into the campground just west of Gunnison, Colorado, checked in and set up.  There was still plenty of sunlight left so we decided to do a little exploring.  Without any plan, we headed north through town and stumbled into a canyon formed by the Taylor River.  Without a doubt, it was one of the prettiest places we had seen on our entire trip.  We pulled off the road to linger by the side of the river.  The sun was going down and it was getting cool in the shadows so we decided to head for the coach.  We would revisit this spot tomorrow.

It had been a long day and we didn’t want to cook.  On the way back we looked for a place to eat.  Near the campground was a restaurant named The Trough.  The sign out front showed a cartoon image of a pig eating at a trough and advertised ribs, steaks and such.  I’m not making this up.  It looked like a family place and we decided to give it a try.  Looks can be deceiving.  It turned out we had stumbled onto a popular white-tablecloth restaurant.  It was a little more than we wanted to spend but we had an excellent meal.

We returned to the coach and spent the rest of the evening quietly watching TV and reading.

Contemporary Note: Our motorhome included a factory-installed engine brake, a devise that uses engine compression to hold the vehicle back on downhill runs.  I can’t remember how many times this saved us from careening downhill and/or burning up our brakes.  I never worried about the uphills, but 32,000 pounds of vehicle can quickly get out of control on a downhill.

Our last few days in Colorado Springs were quietly spent getting ready to leave.  We have been here almost two months and there was quite a bit to do.  For the most part, the weather cooperated.

One evening, we hosted Jeanne’s cousin Vicki and her husband Tim.  We  showed them around the coach and gave them some insight into our wandering lifestyle.  After dining on grilled burgers and visiting for a while, we said our goodbyes.  We very much enjoyed spending time with them.

The day before leaving, we got as much done as possible.  On an absolutely perfect day, we removed the sunscreens, washed the windows, stowed equipment, washed the Jeep, updated the computers, ran the generator for a few minutes, checked the oil and checked the tire pressure.

After a dinner of grilled salmon, we spent a quiet evening looking forward to moving on.

Jeanne was feeling much better today and we were able to get out and about for a while.  Taking it easy, we went to the mall to do some shopping.  We stopped at the Radio Shack to replace an electronic component that got fried by some mad scientist.  Jeanne’s big purchase of the day was a quarter pound of fudge.  On the way back we stopped at a Sonic for lunch.

One of the things we discovered about Colorado Springs is that it is much bigger than we thought.  This is no small town, although it still has a small town feel to it.  Typical of small towns, people try to engage us in conversation.  It happens all the time here.  Maybe folks in Colorado are just friendly.  Or, maybe the passage of time has turned me into an approachable middle-aged guy.  Who knows.  But after growing up in the Big City, the first reaction is to treat all strangers with deep suspicion.  Perhaps people living in small towns don’t live their lives in a constant state of Red Alert.  This will take some getting used to.

Late in the afternoon, an enormous motorhome pulled in next to us.  Watching someone maneuver a motorhome into a tight spot sometimes opens a window to their personality.  The first clue was the driver insisting on pulling into the spot without moving some cars out of the way.  The cars were eventually moved.  The second clue was the driver pretty much ignored the hand signals of the park employee trying to guide him in.  The third clue was that his wife had no part to play in the parking or setup procedure.  Sure enough, after a brief conversation we determined the guy was a jerk.  One of the great things about this lifestyle is that you never have the same neighbor for long.

The rest of the day was spent quietly at the coach.  Jeanne read while I tested Thevenin’s Theorem on my electronics kit.  In the evening, we watched some TV.  Before falling asleep, I wondered what personality will wander into our life tomorrow.

The past week was spent quietly hanging around the coach.

As the holiday weekend drew to a close, the campground slowly emptied.  By Monday afternoon, most of the tent campers were packed up and gone, followed shortly thereafter by trailers, fifth-wheels and motorhomes.  Our life was back to normal on Tuesday, living a quiet life on the road.

We met some great people who camped next to us, Bennie and Carole from Texas.  We spent one evening visiting while sipping wine and solving the world’s problems.  The conversation went long into the evening and we very much enjoyed the hospitality and friendship.  This was their first long trip in their brand new motorhome and they were just getting the hang of using all the systems.  They were sincere and I’m sure they will have fun on the road.

Jeanne caught a flu and was off her feet for a few days, which kept us close to the coach.  I continued my every-other-day workout at the gym that is getting marginally easier despite the altitude.  I’ll start running again when we return to a lower altitude.  When we took the train ride into Royal Gorge, it was right in the middle of the summer vacation season and the train was packed with families.  After the train pulled into the station, I remember watching a young kid run the length of the train toward the station.  He only made about 75 yards before he stopped, red-faced and gasping for air.  I must look the same after 20 minutes on the treadmill.

One day, we wandered into a used bookstore and for $5, I walked out with a dog-eared textbook on electronics.  The book was surprisingly well written for a college text and soon had me engrossed in DC circuits.  Interesting stuff.  In the one-thing-leads-to-another department, I bought a learning lab at the local Radio Shack and I’m sure our neighbors are wondering about the clicking, buzzing and blinking lights coming from our coach.  Learning something useful is a good way to pass the time while waiting for Jeanne to recover.  On second thought, maybe this is what retired people do to stay busy.

We have enjoyed the mild weather.  Generally, the mornings are clear but close to the mountains, a thunderstorm can boil up in the afternoon.  When the showers stop, the dry air quickly erases any evidence of rain.  The daytime temperatures are in the mid-70s while the nighttime lows drop into the 40s.  Perfect for sleeping.

We are pretty much decided on moving to Grand Junction when we pull out next week.  The route takes us through Gunnison, Colorado, where we plan to spend two nights.  The long-range weather looks good and we should have a nice trip.

Contemporary Note: Buying the electronics book set off a chain reaction of sorts.  I always had an interest in electricity, electronics and how ‘things’ worked and that old dog-eared textbook piqued my interest.  In fall 2006, I began to take some electronics classes at the local junior college in Grand Junction, Western Colorado Community College (WCCC).  One thing led to another and I ended up with earning an AAS in electronics technology, a certification in Industrial Electronics from the Electronics Technicians Association, a post-secondary teaching credential and a five-year, part-time teaching assignment at WCCC.

Today was a very special day.

My childhood pal, Bob who lives in Denver, belongs to a fishing club that leases fly fishing rights from private landholders.  Here’s the deal:  for an annual fee and a daily rod fee, members can fish restricted waters.  The great thing about it is that you have an entire stretch of water to yourself for that day.  Only fly fishing with barbless hooks is allowed and you must release anything you catch.  Bob arranged the trip about two weeks ago and we have been looking forward to it ever since.  Quivering with anticipation is more like it.

The big day finally arrived and after a quick breakfast, we headed in the general direction of Bob and Suzy’s cabin.  The sky was perfectly clear, the air was cool and the final stretch of road followed a sparkling mountain stream.  We finally arrived at the rendezvous point by an old farmhouse.  While waiting a few minutes for Bob and Suzy to arrive, we were entertained by the barnyard animals and the old windmill spinning in the morning breeze.

Marty fly fishing in the Colorado High Country.

Bob fly fishing a quiet section of the stream not far from his cabin.

Marty and Bob geared up and ready to catch the big ones.

The general plan was for Jeanne and Suzy to visit while Bob and I fished.  After struggling into our waders and setting up the fly rods, we took off across the pasture.  The stream was loaded with rainbow and brown trout.

Fly fishing is all about finesse and it takes a few clumsy casts to get the hang of it.  Fortunately I had done this before and it quickly came back to me.  After a few minutes, I was the master of the fly.

Time passed slowly. . .

Suddenly I saw something strange in the rippling water.  It was moving against the current, slowly coming towards me.  It was furry and had eyes!  It was looking right at me!  Aha!  A beaver!  Something along the far bank got its attention.  Only a few feet away from my knees it paused, looked at me one last time and disappeared into the grass along the bank.  I went back to fishing.

Before breaking for lunch, Bob and I each caught a few fish.

Lunch was a very civilized affair complete with sandwiches, salad, cheese and an excellent Sterling Merlot.  As usual, there was more food than the four of us could possibly eat.  Still drowsy from the food and drink, we returned to the stream and found the fish had vanished.  We tried everything but the fish would have nothing to do with it.  So after slipping around in the stream for another three hours, we called it a day.

Our parents always said that when we grew up, we could have whatever we wanted for dinner.  Still full from lunch, our dinner consisted of pie, ice cream and cake at a local cafe.  Before the shadows got too long, we said our goodbyes and headed our separate ways.  It was truly a perfect day.

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Apart from the fishing trip, we stayed close to the coach and tried to keep a low profile during the Labor Day holiday.  The campground slowly filled up and by the weekend, the place was jammed with rigs, kids, dogs and cars.  After dark the place glowed with campfires.

In the run-up to the holiday, a really junky rig pulled in next to us.  In the middle of the night, two knuckleheads were banging around as they unloaded all kinds of crap from an overloaded trailer.  In the morning we saw a pile of stuff hidden behind their rig, covered with blue tarp.  Two howling dogs were locked in the trailer before they took off.  The situation was totally out of character for the park and Jeanne decided to involve the park management.  To keep the story short, when the guys returned two days later they were immediately evicted.  We were glad to see them go.

So as the holiday weekend winds down, we expect the campground to empty and our lives return to normal.  Although we will be hanging around for another two weeks, we’re already looking forward to moving on — wherever that might be.