Finally, finally I got out of town. I even got out of the state and headed to a small town in Colorado.
I won’t bore you with all the little details of where I went. And I’m not here to review the establishments, though I could. I went to many excellent places, at least in my opinion. I’m more interested and wanting to speak about what I felt. What I saw. I warn you; I may wax poetic. Don’t worry, there are pictures.
Let’s start with the drive. I could write pages about how much I enjoy driving. It’s meditative for me. It’s something I do to relax. Pretty much everywhere I go, half the point is the drive. I blast my music, put on my ballcap, and have the windows down as long as the weather let’s me. I think. I sing. I talk out loud to nobody. Sometimes I yell. It’s one of the reasons I like to travel alone. I did all of those things on this drive, both to and back.
It’s a little more than six hours (after breaks and dealing with construction, traffic, etc.) from Salt Lake City to Glenwood Springs, Colorado. I didn’t drive it in one go on the way down. I left after work and it was a bit too far, so I stopped in Green River, Utah. The three hour drive heading out of Salt Lake is pretty desolate in nearly every direction you go. It’s mostly desert with scrubby bushes and twisty gnarled trees. But on this particular route to Green River, you actually have to go through the mountains and it’s beautiful. The pass can be quite treacherous in the winter, but this time of year its smooth sailing.
The next morning, I passed through Grand Junction and did a couple of wine tastings while I was in the area. Then it was onto Glenwood Springs. I stayed in an Air BnB while there. A little cabin actually. I rather enjoyed it. I was there for three nights.
I did a lot of cool things. Went to a lot of cool places. I tend to cram as much into each trip as I can, but every trip has moments that stand out.
On this particular trip the first was a person I met.
On Friday morning, I’d taken two hikes I expected to take longer. I had an appointment window between 1p and 2p to check in at Glenwood Canyons Adventure Park, so I had a little time to kill. I grabbed lunch at a small burrito place. Ate in the car and then went to Ball brewing just outside of Glenwood Springs. I had planned to stop at some point because according to their website they had a beer called the Spotted Elk that is an homage to Spotted Cow by New Glarus Brewery in Wisconsin. It was my go-to beer for many years and the brewery itself is amazing. If you’re ever in that part of the world, I recommend going (I know, I just said I wasn’t going to do reviews).
I got to the brewery and the entire place was empty. I double checked it was indeed open and just as I was going to back out, a woman came through some doors from the back. Her name was Von. She was the owner’s mother and who was covering for someone on vacation. Von was from Dubuque, Iowa and knew my hometown in Wisconsin, which is crazy. Nobody knows my hometown. It’s so small that the main intersection in town is a four way stop. We started chatting. It was one of those great conversations that just naturally flows from one subject to another. No awkward pauses. We actually got in to some pretty serious stuff. It was so fantastic that the time flew and before I knew it, I realized that if I didn’t leave right then, I would miss my appointment window. I almost blew it off so I could keep talking, but I had already paid to get into the park. So, I thanked her for the chat and got back on the road.
That brings me to the second highlight of the trip. I made my window with only five minutes to spare. In order to get up to Glenwood Canyons Adventure Park, you have to take a gondola ride to the top of the mountain, more than a thousand feet higher than the town. It takes about 15 minutes and by the time you get to the top, you can see the entire valley. It was breathtaking. Not for anyone afraid of heights, of course. But for me , it was stunning. The green of the trees and the flashing of sunlight off the river far below. The puffy white and gray clouds with the bright blue backdrop of the sky. And the only sound was the wind in the trees and the gentle creaking of the cables. The rest of my experience at the Park was lacking due to the heat and waiting in line in the sun, but that ride up and back made it worth it.
That night, I made my way downtown in search of dinner. I got the last parking spot in an extremely cramped public parking lot and just started walking. I ended up in a neat little area nestled around the base of the over pass and pedestrian bridge that goes over the river. I found it by accident. It was a clever use of space. I ended up at a barbeque place called Smoke. I was seated right away and was there long enough to get a beer and give my food order when a really loud boom of thunder shook the entire building. It scared the bejesus out of everyone. Two seconds later it started raining so hard that it looked like someone was pouring buckets of water off the roof. The staff went running and started pulling the people from the patio and carrying their plates inside. By the time they had everyone settled and the tables outside bussed, a couple of the waiters were so soaked it looked like they’d jumped in the river. But I noticed something amazing through this entire thing. Everyone was smiling. Laughing. Joking around. No harsh words. No frustration. No anger. It was incredible. Even the poor drenched waiters. Their co-workers threw towels over their heads. Once jokingly started vigorously drying one of their hair until the man pushed him off laughing.
It was beautiful.
The good humor and rain lasted through my meal. I ordered a second beer once I was done eating and just sat to observe and wait out the storm.
Once it stopped raining, I wandered around a little, then headed back to my cabin. I was still smiling about the whole thing the rest of the night. I’m smiling now as I write this just remembering. Part of me thinks that quiet, simple moments like that are some of the best we get. And often the easiest ones to forget.
The next day, I drove about 45 minutes away to Rifle Falls State Park. It is beautiful there. The waterfalls and the trees. It’s a little oasis. I took another hike (surprise, surprise). They also have some small caves you can explore. And I did, armed with my tiny flashlight. There is something about being in a natural cave. Even a well traversed one. There’s always that tickle down my spine. Like if I could turn around fast enough, I would see something sneaking up on me. What, you ask? I have no clue. It’s an old fear from the lizard part of my brain. Most people have that same fear of the dark, which interestingly enough, I don’t have an issue with. But there is something about all the nooks and crannies in a cave that make me nervous. Not scared exactly. But on high alert. It’s a gentle thrill that I enjoy. So, poking around in those little caves was fun and more adventure than I’ve had in a while (as sad as that is).
The next morning, I returned home. For my return trip I chose to take the long way, along a slow country highway. Stretching every minute of the weekend that I could.
All in all, it was a good trip. It definitely did the trick too. I’ve been struggling to write much of anything for the past few months. It waxes and wanes, but particularly the last several weeks has been hell for writing. But take my butt out of the day-to-day drudgery that is my life and suddenly I’m writing up a storm. I didn’t even take my laptop with me, so I was forced to write in my journal, on scraps of paper, on the list of addresses and such that I’d written up. And the trend continued, at least for a few days after I got back.
This is proof positive that travel is good for my soul. I just have to try and not go so long next time.
I’ve written an entire article about my love of travel that you can find HERE if you’re interested.
Once again, thank you for reading. I hope everyone is well and that you do me the honor of subscribing.
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