San Diego, day 2

Posted on February 28, 2015 by dhill

Saturday

We didn’t have any specific plans for the day, but we had a list of possibilities. The only constraint was that our activities should have minimal walking, as my mom’s mobility is somewhat restricted.

We stopped by their motel a bit after nine and after discussing the possibilities decided to do a two-hour harbor tour in the morning and visit the Cabrillo National Monument in the afternoon.

Littoral Combat Ship

The weather was on the cool side and overcast. The first part of the tour is a loop of the northern half of the harbor. We passed the boats of the San Diego Maritime Museum (the Star of India, the HMS Surprise, a Soviet submarine), the live bait barges and their attendant sea lions sunning themselves, and the submarine pens below Point Loma. A small flotilla of pleasure craft raced ahead of us, exiting the harbor. We turned around and concentrated on Naval Air Station North Island.

The USS Ronald Reagan, CVN-76, is berthed there undergoing repairs and refitting. It was in the same place last time we visited the area, ten or twelve years ago. (How long has it really been? I was still using a film camera at the time).

The tour boat went back to the dock to disembark the folks who only bought the one hour tour and load up another set of folks for the southern harbor loop. This loop took us under the San Diego

US Naval Ship Bob Hope (T-AKR-300)

Coronado bridge to Naval Base San Diego. I can identify the various classes of naval ships of World War II and describe their purpose and function. But modern naval vessels are a mystery to me, slab-sided, opaque, lacking obvious armament. But we did get to see a couple of helicopter aircraft carriers, a supply ship described as the Costco of the sea, a littoral combat ship (tri-hull, angular, loaded with stealthy attributes) and the Sea Slice, an experimental ship built by Lockheed which seems to be available for purchase.

Sea Slice – experimental littoral ship

Back on shore, we made a quick visit to Tuna Harbor Park. This little park is directly south of the Midway Museum. It attracted my attention because of the giant sculpture of the kiss – that famous photo of the sailor and nurse kissing on V. E. day. It’s called “Unconditional Surrender”. Also in the park is a set of statues – Bob Hope and an audience of fifteen life-sized bronze sculptures. Pretty cool.

After this, we piled back into the car and headed to Coronado Island

The Kiss

for lunch. We made our way to the Brigantine Seafood restaurant, across the street from the Hotel del Coronado. I couldn’t decide which fish to eat and ended up with their Steakhouse Burger – Grass fed California beef, smoked wild boar bacon, tomatoes, chopped lettuce, blue cheese, caramelized onions, white truffle-black pepper aioli. Yes, it’s wrong to have a burger at a good seafood place, but so it goes.

Next we headed to Point Loma and the Cabrillo National Monument. Ideally, we’d be there during low tide and wander through the tidal pools searching for sea urchins and starfish. The tides weren’t right, the parking lot was full, and my mom wouldn’t have been able to make it down to the water anyway.

So we went to the visitors center, enjoyed the view of the harbor and city to the east and the

Bob Hope entertains the troops

ocean to the west. The folks watched a short film about whales while Genae and I went to the lighthouse. There, we found a docent, or perhaps not actually a docent but someone dressed in period garb, knowledgeable in the lighthouse and its times. We had a nice little chat. His character wasn’t the lighthouse operator but a newspaperman.

I asked if he felt isolated there. “Look around you – there are lots of people!” He told us that in 1887, many folks would visit the lighthouse on Saturdays and Sundays, make a day of it. I asked if the water catchment basin provided a sufficient supply and he described the effort required to bring water from the nearest spring. Next I asked if he was a Cleveland man or Harrison man. He enjoyed the question, being in actuality not a newspaperman from 1887 but a former fifth grade history teacher.

We left the lighthouse and wandered along the paths. Past the old WW II gun emplacements, to the ocean overlooks decorated with a whale’s spine and kelp, to a nice view of the new Point Loma lighthouse. On the way back to the visitor center we stopped at a small blockhouse holding exhibits of the shore defenses – a 155mm artillery shell, a cross-section of the howitzer’s barrel showing the rifling, binoculars and telescopes used for spotting.

Old Point Loma Lighthouse

By now we’d managed to wear out my parents. We dropped them off at their motel and returned to ours. We’re in Old Town, so after a short rest we took a walk and looked for an interesting Mexican restaurant. We found ourselves at Café Coyote. I had enchiladas – one beef and one guacamole. I’d never heard of a guacamole enchilada before. Like the dinner in general, it was okay but nothing to write home about. That’s the thing about Mexican restaurants – it’s pretty easy to find average food but above average is fairly rare.

After dinner we walked up and down the streets of Old Town. Lots of Mexican restaurants, a few bars, a number of stores selling trinkets and souvenirs of the area. Kitschy stuff we’d never buy, but didn’t mind browsing.

San Diego, day 1

Posted on February 25, 2015 by dhill

Back in December it was obvious I wouldn’t be flying USAir before my miles would expire at the end of February, so we needed to use them or lose them. We considered all the big west coast cities and picked Seattle until we realized the only flight we had enough points for was an overnighter. So we went with Plan B: San Diego. My parents like to go there so we suggested they meet us there. And we timed the weather perfectly, missing a big winter storm at home.

Friday

Up at 5:30 and out of the house a few minutes before six. Bad traffic on I-270 cost us twenty minutes, but we arrived at the gate only a few minutes behind my target time, no worries. Our first flight was DEN to PHX. There were two youth soccer teams aboard and the flight was noisy. Not because the kids were loud, but because the two chaperones in the row behind us were the loudest people on the plane.

We had a short layover before our flight to LAX. Not long enough to grab a meal, but enough to grab a snack. This was a quick flight, about an hour gate to gate. We were out at the waiting area for the rental car shuttles a few minutes after noon. We watched patiently as Hertz, Avis, Enterprise shuttles went by. Waited more – Alamo, Fox, Budget. I asked one of the drivers what color van Economy Rent-A-Car uses. Never saw one. I got the phone out and searched for Economy. Panicked a bit when the nearest one according to Google was 38 minutes away. Went to the info desk where they gave us a phone number and told us to take the parking shuttle to lot C and call for the shuttle there.

I wasn’t sure why Economy didn’t run shuttles to the airport like all the others. They’re on Century Blvd like most of the others, and they’ll drop us at the terminal when we return, so why not pick up customers there as well?

So we were running a bit later than hoped. The plan was to meet a friend at the In-N-Out in Costa Mesa at something like 1:30. By then we were getting fairly hungry: skipped breakfast, had a snack at about eleven, and it was actually 2:30 for us rather than 1:30 because of the time change.

We had told my folks it would take us a couple hours to get down to San Diego. We didn’t account for lunch, and we certainly didn’t account for southern California traffic. After lunch we followed the smart phone’s navigation instructions which put us on a toll road. Because we didn’t opt for the express pass for the rental car, we decided it best to avoid the toll road. So we turned around intending to take the 405 south but, typical for the area, that was not an option. We ended up making a u-turn in front of the In-N-Out after driving eight or ten miles.

So we finally arrived at the hotel in Old Town a bit after five. We called my folks, found our way to their motel, and from there to the Bali Hai restaurant. This is a Hawaiian themed seafood place on Shelter Island. Our table had a beautiful view of the harbor, the San Diego skyline brightly lit, mirrored in the water. I had the braised swordfish (with grilled orange, forbidden rice, and black pepper sauce). It was delicious. And all the waiters were dressed like me!

The Rental Car

The car this trip is new to me, a Chrysler 200. I found much of its operation alien. No gear selector in the console, must be on the tree. What I thought was a skinny shift lever was instead a fat windshield wiper control. I didn’t so much put it in drive as turn on the wipers and spray the washer fluid. The gear selector is a knob. As is common now, there’s a fob with no key. Keep the fob in your pocket, press the brake, push the button and the car starts. I found it unnatural to pocket the fob. I’ve driven cars for forty years and I’ve always had a key and I’ve never changed gears with a knob.

It spends quite a bit of time shifting. It’s a nine speed automatic. You’re in third by the time you hit 15 or 18, sixth at 40. This is just cruising around; I didn’t put my foot to the floor the entire four days. Quite often the shifts were pretty harsh. The brakes were good, but kind of touchy.

The back seat passengers hit their heads every time they got in the car, even when warned “watch your head!” I’m a bit too tall for the car. With the seat all the way back, the pedals were too close. This made for more fatigue on longer drives. There was no manual in the glove box and never figured out ~~many~~ any of the controls. Managed to mute the radio but never could turn it off. How long before I tell kids to get off my lawn?

It’s a nice car, seemingly well built (this one was brand new), and has nice lines. When I was picking everybody up once, a couple of guys said they thought it was sharp. I’m sure it would be a wonderful car for folks who only cart short people around.

Portland Trip: Day 1 – Denver to Boise

Posted on September 10, 2014 by dhill

August 23, 2014

I packed the car last night. Everything went together just like in the dry run. But after I was in bed I thought of something I should bring that wasn’t on the list. Not just once but twice. Still, I managed not to think of taking a bagel out of the freezer for breakfast, but if that’s my biggest oversight I’ll be in good shape.

According to plan, I backed out of the garage promptly at 5:00am. Wanting to minimize my time on the Interstate, I got off I-25 at Ft. Collins and took US 287 to Laramie. The sun made its appearance about the same time I crossed the border into Wyoming. It was cloudy but not really overcast. The clouds were in layers, the lowest draping themselves over some of the hilltops.

I entered Laramie at about 7, looking for fuel and breakfast. I was pretty certain that if I went up the main drag I’d find somewhere to eat. There was nothing. I gassed up at the Safeway and ended up grabbing something at Wendy’s before getting on I-80. I sat at a window seat and watched people look at the car. She never fails to draw a crowd.

I’d have to say I’m pretty spoiled when it comes to scenic roads. So it should be understandable that I find the views along I-80 in Wyoming pretty boring. There’s really nothing interesting to look at until about Rock Springs where the geology changes a bit. To offset the boring scenery, or perhaps because of it, the speed limit is often 80. Typically, I’m happy going about 5 over the limit, so I ended up running most of the tank of gas at 85 or so. Instead of my expected 35mpg, I only got 28.

After fuel and restroom at mile 68, my route takes me off I-80 and onto US 30 at mile 66. Heading up US 30, there’s not a tree to be seen anywhere. The place is dense with oil production sites, all painted brown in an attempt to blend into the background. I’m amused that each has its own little solar panel. It’s a four lane highway much of the way through here. After a while, the oil production is gone, to be replaced by coal strip mines. They’re not really visible from the road, but a couple hillsides are nicely terraced, obviously reclaimed coal mines.

My next stop was in Cokeville for food. A couple miles out of town I saw a sign for a diner that looked promising. But when I came upon it, there were no cars in the parking lot. My first thought was “how good can they be if they don’t have any customers?” In retrospect that probably isn’t fair. Cokeville’s not a very big place. Instead, I grabbed a piece of pizza at the Pilot station. The pizza is from the convenience store – their restaurant is closed down. But it was actually a nice piece of pizza.

The weather had cleared up when I got on US 30, so I had some sun. But by here, the sky was filled with scattered clouds, some producing rain. I started going through these little squalls periodically. Never more than a few miles wide, they never caused me to turn the wipers on more than intermittent.

Before long, I was back on the super slab, northbound on I-15. The plan was to spend the night at Blackfoot for an early start with a quick stop at Craters of the Moon. This clearly would be suboptimal. I arrived in Blackfoot promptly at three. Way too early to bed down. So I fuelled up again, talked to three more guys about the car, and headed west on US 26.

In spite of the Snake River flowing through this valley, I find it very much like the San Luis valley. The native vegetation is much the same. It’s a bit denser here, and there is quite a bit more irrigated land than there.

I soon started seeing signs for the EBR-I Atomic Museum, a national heritage site. Miles from anywhere, I see a block shaped building a mile or so off the road. This is Experimental Breeder Reactor I. This was the first power plant in the world that produced usable electricity from atomic energy. This was Dec. 20, 1951. It was made a National Historic Landmark by LBJ in 1966.

The place was not at all what I expected, with the possible exception of the control room. Everything else was much smaller than I figured, although I can imagine the evolution from this early setup to something that would fit in a submarine. Very cool. And in spite of it being in the middle of nowhere, I was not the only visitor.

I spent about forty minutes there and when I returned to the car it was starting to rain again. By the time I got to Craters of the Moon, it was raining heavily. Perhaps I should have stopped at the visitor center anyway, but it was really coming down hard now and I had no idea how long it would last. So when a couple of bikers passed me, I let them get a bit ahead of me then matched their speed.

We had a nice little run, interrupted by some light traffic. They weren’t going that much faster than I’d have gone on my own but it was nice to pick up the pace a bit. Sometimes they went quite a bit faster than I expected, given the conditions. There was the occasional puddle of standing water. Again, the storm was fairly localized. Within twenty minutes we had gotten out from under it and the road was only damp.

This section of road around Craters of the Moon reminds me a lot of the area around Grants, New Mexico. The terrain, vegetation, and geology look quite similar to me. The lava here is blacker, perhaps, which makes me think it’s more recent.

US 20 and US 26 run the same route from Blackfoot past Craters of the Moon. Shortly after US 26 makes a right turn, the riders pulled over. I waved at them an continued. The weather had returned to the small, light squalls. I was back to my 5 mph over the limit. Traffic wasn’t heavy and slower cars were easy to pass.

Here I passed a red Honda. At least, I think it was a Honda. All identifying markings had been removed. It was red with black accents and darkly tinted windows. After I passed him, he matched my speed, following quite closely. Soon he downshifted and blazed by me at about 90, whereupon he slowed down again. I passed him a second time and he continued to follow me quite closely for quite a long time. He was being a bit of a butthead.

For the most part, both 20 and 26 were straight, flat roads. The valleys here are wide with flat bottoms. Sometimes the highway ran along the side thus twisting to and fro a bit. But long stretches were more centered in the valleys and the road has long straight stretches. Finally 26 started bending around the terrain, rising and falling. I ran into no traffic; my pleasure was uninterrupted. It was, however, short. I soon found myself at the junction with I-84.

Again the speed limit is 80, but here there is much more traffic than in Wyoming. The sky had cleared and I was feeling a bit warm for the first time today. I don’t think it was ever much over 60 all day, and often quite a bit cooler. But approaching Boise it was sunny and warm.

I pulled into the Kopper Kitchen at 7 for a Cobb salad and iced tea, found a cheap but clean motel and looking forward to a much easier day tomorrow than originally planned. I was happy to stop and see whatever sights I found along the way, which wasn’t much. With fuel and food breaks and a short museum visit, I was on the road 14 hours and covered 845 miles. Certainly more seat time than I planned, but it will allow for quite a bit of leisure tomorrow.

Much of today’s route was along segments of the Oregon Trail. I can only imagine the hardships involved in making this trek a century and a half ago. Pack up all your worldly belongings in a covered wagon, hitch up a team of oxen, and make your way through these inhospitable hundreds of miles taking a day to go as far as I go in ten or fifteen minutes.

Trip Preparation

Posted on August 10, 2014 by dhill

My planned Portland trip is less than two weeks away. I first came up with this mad scheme back in January. Early on, I obsessed about it quite a bit. Now it’s getting close and I find myself back in obsession mode.

Here’s the quick rundown: spend two days driving to Maupin, OR. Take a three day trip down the Deschutes River. A track day at The Ridge Motorsports Park followed by a track day with Club Lotus Northwest at Portland International Raceway. Hike Mt. St. Helens. A third track day at Oregon Raceway Park. Hike Mt. Hood. Spend a few days in the office. One day on the road headed to either Yellowstone or the Grand Tetons. Hike there. Drive home.

That’s the plan.

Although there are some missing elements – I only know where I’m sleeping on eight of the fifteen nights – I’ve definitely moved from planning to preparation.

The car is nearly ready to go. I changed the oil today. I had the brakes flushed Friday, along with a couple minor repairs. I still need to clean the air filter.

I have a lot of kit to take. I feel a bit like Imelda Marcos, taking driving shoes, hiking boots, old shoes for the river trip, and a pair of sneakers. I have my fanny pack for hiking and my backpack full of work stuff and the laptop. I have helmets, driving suit and gloves, and tools for the track days. Cameras, tripods, connectors, chargers. Poncho, windbreaker, sunscreen. And, of course, clothes.

It’s a small car. I’ve been concerned it might not all fit. When I do track days, I have too much gear to take a passenger. But I’ll leave the five gallon gas can at home and won’t bring a lawn chair. Not as much gear when I hike, but still a non-trivial pile of stuff. Neither of those requires me to pack ten days of clothes and my work backpack. I wonder if I need a TARDIS to fit it all.

This evening Genae helped do a dry run.

Amazingly, everything fit. Note that I had the top in the drivers seat. I’ll start with the top on and when it’s nice enough to go topless, it will have to ride in the passenger seat. And I’ll need to make sure some items are handy, but I’m pleasantly surprised with the results.

And I still have ten days or so to go over the lists. I wonder what necessity I’m forgetting…

Long Beach

Posted on June 14, 2014 by dhill

It took me the better part of two weeks to post about our Moab trip because as soon as we got home I had to go to Long Beach on business.

Although I spent the better part of two years working in Burbank, it has been fourteen years since I was in Long Beach for the race. On that trip we were in a motel a few miles from the track, but this trip I stayed downtown at the Marriott. The place has changed considerably in the meanwhile.

Each day for dinner, I walked from the hotel to a restaurant nearby. After eating I walked back along part of the race course. In the sidewalk in front of the convention center they’ve put some commemorative plaques, like this one:

Phil Hill, 1961 F1 Champ, Ferrari

The rental car this week was a Hyundai Accent, an average car in almost every way. Mine was a neutral color, sort of gray and at the same time sort of brown. The only memorable attribute of the car is the uncomfortable driving position. With the seat adjusted properly for my legs, the steering wheel was too far away.

I know I did it in the past, but today I have a hard time imagining getting around unfamiliar places without the aid of GPS. On this trip, I think Google was messing with me. It led me from the hotel to the client’s office along a different route each day, both in the morning and evening. I assume this was due to traffic. That said, it led me down a street where a train was more or less parked.

One evening I went to Burbank for dinner with a friend. Once GPS got me on I-5, I knew exactly where I was going. When I got within four miles, Google wanted to send me to Glendale. The wonders of technology.

Red Rocks Ramble

Posted on June 13, 2014 by dhill

Red Rocks Ramble was the sixth edition of LoCo’s Colorado Good. This time we explored Moab. Saturday drive to Moab, Sunday a morning loop, a free afternoon followed by happy hour at the motel, Monday tour Colorado National Monument before the final blast down I-70 to home.

Saturday, May 31

We met the Denver contingent at the Fort for an 8:30 departure. We were told that photographer Mike Rodgers (Driven Imagery) would get some shots of us from an overpass at Parmalee Gulch. Turns out he went as far as the summit of Monarch Pass. I’m pretty sure I saw him shooting us in South Park, too.

Most of the drive would follow our tracks from last spring: meet folks from Breckenridge in Fairplay, Springs folks near Buena Vista, lunch in Gunnison where we picked up our last participant. But after Ridgway we went straight instead of turning left to Telluride. This took us up the Norwood grade, through the town of Bedrock and Paradox Valley. There was absolutely no traffic all the way to the junction with US 191, a high-speed blast punctuated by occasional cattle guards.

We weren’t so lucky on 191 all the way to Moab – lots of trucks and RVs. We arrived at the motels – we were in two motels, across the street from each other – in plenty of time to check in and get cleaned up before dinner with the group at the diner next to the motel.

One sad note for the day – Jeff broke the suspension on his Birkin near our fuel stop in Montrose and had to drop out.

Sunday, June 1

We woke to a beautiful morning and after breakfast assembled for a drive on the La Sal Loop Road. As it was hot the whole weekend, we kept the top on most of the time but we slathered on the SPF and went al fresco.

We made the run clockwise, going north from Moab and along the Colorado River through a dramatic red rock canyon. The river is calm through here, no whitewater. But the water looked very high. Quite a lot of traffic through here, as one would expect. We soon found our turn and headed south into the La Sal Mountains.

I’m sure it was a beautiful road, however many decades ago it was last paved. But it was very scenic and I think everybody enjoyed it. We pulled over for a break and a group picture. Some of the folks were wishing they’d brought a light jacket, which was a pleasant break from the heat we had the rest of the trip.

We broke into smaller groups for lunch and went off to explore on our own for the afternoon. A lot of folks headed to Arches, but we’d been there before so the choice was Dead Horse Point or Canyonlands. I suggested we do Canyonlands and hit Dead Horse Point on the way back if there’s time. There wasn’t.

Upheaval Dome

I’d looked at the map of the park before leaving the house. I hoped maybe there’d be a short hike we could take, not much more than a mile. Upheaval Dome fit the bill, so that’s where we headed first. Round trip is a mile, characterized by the pamphlet as a “steep” 200 foot climb.

After that, we pretty much stopped at every major scenic point on the road. We didn’t see anybody else from LoCo and in fact it seemed like most park visitors were foreigners. I chatted with a guy from Germany (“I see a lot of Lotuses in Germany!”), heard Chinese and Japanese, French and Spanish spoken.

Back at the motel, we had happy hour – margaritas, snacks and conversation. Then out to Eddie McStiff’s for dinner with the group.

The day wasn’t without glitches. One of the M100’s suffered not only a nasty rock impact and broken windshield but had a mechanical problem as well. And an Elise had to make a run to Grand Junction for tires.

Monday, June 2

The first few miles of the day were a repeat of yesterday. We stopped beneath the canyon walls for a group picture. Ross’s general rule is not to put the same color cars next to each other, but that is especially true for yellow. I think Mike parked next to him just to needle him a bit. Sometime I’d like to try lining them up like a rainbow.

At our morning pit stop in Fruita I managed to catch an impromptu group shot at the Loco station. Gotta get a shot of LoCo at Loco, right?

Gassed up and refreshed, we headed into Colorado National Monument. I’ve been by here a handful of times but never stopped for a visit so it’s about time. It is a pretty interesting place. The geography is similar in many ways to Canyonlands, but smaller and more intimate. I ran the camera for this part of the drive and will post a second video if I manage to put together anything interesting.

Lunch in Grand Junction at the Kannah Creek Brewing Company for the official end of the gathering. Several of us stuck together for a few miles of twisty roads along I-70. We took County Road 45.5 into DeBeque, then side roads up and down the side of the valley to minimize our time on the super-slab.

For the run from Rifle to Frisco, we were down to four – an Evora, two Elises, and a Miata. We find the trip through Glenwood Canyon always interesting – the highway is quite the engineering marvel, even if it is just a highway. But this time, the river was running higher than either of us recall seeing it. The bike path was flooded for long stretches, and the water looked to be within a foot or two of the railroad tracks.

Once through the canyon, we put the hammer down for a high speed run over Vail pass. A Volkswagen stayed on our tail until we got to the foot of the pass. There we passed a Pantera, who made an attempt to keep up with us. After a few minutes neither he nor the VW was in our mirrors.

We had to gas up in Frisco. At the next pump was a guy filling his Harley. I was thinking he looked familiar when he said, “You were in Moab.” We had met the day before. He arrived in Frisco along an entirely different route and was headed for Trail Ridge Road next. He had ridden 1600 miles in three days, starting in Texas.

The rest of the trip was leisurely and mostly uneventful. We were held up for a few minutes while they did some blasting at the tunnel construction east of Idaho Springs. And there was construction on one of the overpasses. They ground the asphalt off but didn’t make a little ramp as normal. I hit that edge hard at about sixty and both my turn signal assemblies popped out of their mounts and flopped around until I could get pulled over. Lost one of the grommets. It’s an $8 part, but $20 for shipping.

I can’t speak for everybody, but we had a grand time.

Two Weeks in Portland

Posted on February 27, 2014 by dhill

I’ve been quiet here because I’ve been a bit busy. I’m nearing the end of two weeks in Portland on business.

Rewinding to last week, but first a digression. I recently decided that it would be great fun to make the drive here from Denver if I could arrange a track day at Portland International Raceway. I reached out to the local enthusiasts, Club Lotus Northwest (CLNW) and found that they’re having a track day at PIR on August 29. I also signed up for their mailing list. When my presence was requested in the office, it turns out that I’d be in town when CLNW had one of their meetings.

So last Tuesday I found myself at the McMenamin’s Courtyard restaurant at the Kennedy School to meet with the fine folks of CLNW. Genae and I make fun of the TV shows where the substance abusers all know that there’s an AA meeting right around the corner from wherever they are. And so I travel a thousand miles to attend a Lotus club meeting. “My name is Dave and I drive a Lotus!”

The Kennedy School was an elementary school built in 1915. McMenamin’s renovated the once abandoned gem, turning it into a complex featuring a 57 room hotel, a theater, and a handful of restaurants/bars. I probably should have wandered around the place a bit to enjoy the murals. I’ll put it on my list for a return visit.

A few quick thoughts on my two weeks here:

Rental car for the first week was a Kia Forte. Never heard of it before. First car I’ve driven in ages that didn’t have a remote lock. A very pedestrian car completely lacking in any interesting features.
Week one’s hotel room was on the top floor, right next to the elevator. I was expecting it to be noisy but I was pleasantly surprised it was quiet. But each morning I was awakened to the smell of bacon – the breakfast area was directly below me and the scent went straight up the elevator shaft.
Going through security at DIA they directed me to a line where I didn’t need to remove my jacket, belt, or shoes, and could leave the laptop in the backpack. A first for me.
Returning to Denver, my flight was delayed over two hours due to wind in Denver. Only the second time I’ve had a flight delayed due to weather in Denver.
Second time through DIA I was again diverted, this time through the TSA pre-check line. Do they not realize I’ve been on the watch list for the last several years? I could get used to such quick screening.
I’m certainly spoiled by the weather in Denver. I enjoy my time here in Portland, but the weather is a bit of a downer. I may be wrong, but I think it has rained every day I’ve been here these two weeks. I’m told the sun comes out by July.
Week two’s car is a Dodge Avenger. How did they manage to give an exciting name to such a drab car?
This week’s hotel is being renovated. At least the rooms on my floor are. I’m in a newly redecorated room. Half the rooms are under construction – there are post-it notes on most doors: “Complete by Friday”, “Tile: caulk soap dish, caulk top of tile in shower”, and so on. New carpet, tile, wallpaper. But they kept the old sink and bathtub. Instead of the smell of bacon in the morning, I get the smell of paint all the time.
I’m a bit stuck in a rut in the restaurant category. I have dinner at another McMenamin’s place – John Barleycorn’s. This time was a pint of their Ruby and a chicken pesto sandwich.
Being a book junkie, I make a trip downtown to Powell’s City of Books. Three floors that take up a full city block, I can never make an exit without an armload.
Each time now, I eat at the Deschutes Brewery a block from Powell’s. Tonight it was smoked chicken and field greens – basically a Cobb salad with greens instead of iceberg lettuce. And a half liter of one of their cask ales. Yum.

Estes Park

Posted on September 29, 2013 by dhill

Today we drove to Estes Park for lunch. Yesterday I called a couple places up there and asked if they were open and if we’d be in the way if we went up there. “Please come.” So off we went. We drove Genae’s car, not knowing what sort of road damage we’d encounter.

We gassed up and reset the trip odometer and headed west on 88th. This turns into Colorado 72 and goes up Coal Creek Canyon. This road, though, is closed at least until November. We head six miles south to Golden Gate Canyon and up to Colorado 119 north of Blackhawk. Here the traffic started getting heavy. Not many RVs, but lots of side dump trucks running in both directions.

North of Nederland we started seeing evidence of rock slides almost everywhere the road makes a rocky cut. A crew was filling a dumptruck with fallen rocks where the road makes a long cut just before Allenspark. When we passed the turn for Wild Basin, I noted that we’d been driving for two and a quarter hours. In the morning, before traffic, I could probably get to the trailhead in two hours. So a hike here has as long a drive as about any west side hike.

The most dramatic flood damage we saw was at Camp St. Malo. There’s a huge pile of debris on the west side of the road. It looked like the road had been closed here at some point.

Flood debris at Camp St. Malo

The road along here must have looked more like a river. Most of this section of road is narrow because it has no shoulders. The white line marking the lane really marks the edge of the asphalt. Water ran along the edge of the road, washing away big channels of earth.

Landslide on Twin Sisters

It’s clear that an incredible amount of water fell here. There’s a large landslide on Twin Sisters. The bathtub ring in the debris at Camp St. Malo was about eight feet above the top of the rubble. And standing there, you can see a fresh scar on Meeker as well.

After Lily lake the road descends steeply. Here the water undermined the edge of the southbound lane, causing chunks of asphalt to break off, even in the stretch that was recently repaved.

I thought we’d see if we could go far enough down Fish Creek road to go by the house on Rams Horn but it was closed above Carriage Dr. In any event, it had taken over two and a half hours to get here, and we had to be back home by four at the latest so we didn’t have much time. The plan was to grab pizza over by the Safeway then see if I could get some cheese corn at the Carmel Crisp and finally grab some beer at the brewery. So we headed straight to the restaurant – Village Pizza.

I can’t recall ever seeing fewer cars in that parking lot. The place looked closed, but the sign said open so in we went. We were the only people there. Three or four other tables were seated within minutes of us. After enjoying our pizza we headed downtown. I was pleasantly surprised. You could hardly tell the place had been flooded. Plenty of available parking near the post office.

We popped into Carmel Crisp and got some white cheddar jalapeno popcorn. They’ve been there for 38 years and I’ve probably been buying cheese corn there that long. The place really hasn’t changed in my memory, except that they sometimes put another little snapshot on their wall. They have one showing damage from the Lawn Lake flood in ’82.

I asked how long they were out of commission. They said just a short while. They had to wait for their inspection sticker but had the place cleaned up in a couple of hours. They had very little water in their shop. Some time ago their neighbors remodeled and put a wall very close to their front door. Their door is angled, and this wall sort of impedes traffic flow. They went to court over it at great expense but lost. In the end, it diverted the water enough to save them some grief.

Next, pick up some beer. We head up West Riverside Drive, not seeing much damage. Different story at Fun City, though. A fair amount of debris there. After grabbing some Stinger wild honey wheat and Estes Park Gold, we continue up Riverside. I’m happy to see that things aren’t as bad as I’d feared. We didn’t driver through Manor RV but considered it. We did drive slowly to get a good look and saw nothing out of the ordinary.

Up Marys Lake Road and back to 7. Traffic was pretty bad all day. We often saw strings of twenty and thirty cars in the other direction. On the way back was saw more sports cars, sometimes two or three together but nobody was even moving the speed limit. Side traffic often had long waits to cross or enter the highway.

It was more than 180 miles round trip, total elapsed time a tad over six hours but not much time spent in Estes. The roads were in good enough shape to take the Lotus but traffic sucked. But we did make it back in time. We had a date to see a movie, but that’s another post.

Colorado Good 5

Posted on September 25, 2013 by dhill

Sorry this post is a bit late, I’ve been otherwise occupied.

Saturday, September 21

LoCo’s three day fall drive included a night in Gunnison and a night in Crested Butte. The route looked interesting, but we just have too much to do to join them. Day one, though, featured Independence Pass. I haven’t been over it in the last thirty years or so and Genae has never been over it. So we figured we’d join the group for the drive to lunch in Carbondale.

We met at a gas station near Golden and headed west on I-70. The trip up I-70 to Frisco is pretty scenic as far as interstate highways go, but not exactly a “Lotus road”. We weren’t a big group yet, missing a couple of Denver folks and not yet met with the Springs group. Even so, I was second to last in the string and lost sight of the Henrys behind me. I last saw them before Georgetown and they didn’t catch up until we exited the interstate at the junction with Colorado 91. By now we had two additional cars, both orange Elises.

Fremont Pass isn’t much twistier than I-70. On the northwest side of the highway there are a couple of large tailing ponds where there once was a mountain. And near the summit you can see another mountain being erased. At its peak, the Climax mine was the largest molybdenum mine in the world, producing three-quarters of the world’s output. It was idled in 1995 but put back into production last year, yielding over twenty million pounds per year.

We made a quick stop in Leadville before continuing on to Twin Lakes to meet the Colorado Springs contingent. There we found a patrol car parked on the side of the road with a mannequin in the drivers seat. After a short break we headed up the pass.

Rinker Peak (13,783′)

One of the objects of the drive is to see the turning of the aspen. We were a bit early, but still quite scenic.

Independence Pass tops out at 12,095′ above sea level. Twin Lakes, on the eastern end, is at 9,200′ and Aspen on the west is more like 8,000. It has a reputation for being hair-raising, and I’d say that would have been how I’d described it the first time I crossed it when I was maybe ten. At the foot of the pass, Genae said she’d compare it to Red Mountain Pass. My feeling, nostalgia isn’t what it used to be. I didn’t find it particularly thrilling. For Genae, Red Mountain is still the standard setter.

I did enjoy the narrow parts on the western side. I’d forgotten all about those. There are three or four sections where the road isn’t wide enough for two way traffic. Cars on one side or the other have to wait for oncoming cars. I bet it’s loads of fun in a motor home.

We blasted through Aspen pretty much without stopping. Hit one red light, perhaps. The road snakes through town, right, left, right, left. At one turn, three or four kids had their phones out, getting us on video. Once through town, onto the superslab – not interstate, but damn close, down to Carbondale for lunch.

I didn’t plan the day very well. I considered making a side trip to Maroon Bells. It would mean going back to Aspen, which meant back over Independence to go home. Quite a long afternoon. Instead, we decided to come back to the area and spend a night or two, have a nice dinner in Aspen, take a short hike at Maroon Bells. Perhaps next spring.

So we headed up to Glenwood Springs and I-70 for the return to Denver. A lot more interstate driving than is ideal, but a pleasant day nonetheless. Glenwood Canyon is always interesting. It was recently repaired and all lanes are open both directions.

The Colorado Grand was finishing up in Vale. When we got there, we saw some transporters along the frontage road being loaded up with some of the cars. After Vail is the quick run up Vail Pass. I don’t remember what this one was like before the interstate went through. In any event, most cars make it up at 70 mph. Not exactly a Lotus road.

We stopped to fuel up in Silverthorne for the final blast back through the tunnel, and the run down to Denver. I’m curious what sort of fuel economy we were getting. It’s about 70 miles, which would normally be about two gallons. But the gauge still indicated nearly full. If I burned a gallon and a half, I’d be surprised. Which would mean something like 45 or 50 mpg. (And also means I probably only got 20 or 25 going the other way.)

I had the camera running from Twin Lakes to Aspen, but it’s bad. Within a few minutes of heading out, the lens fogged up. I’ve never had that happen before. If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.

The Passes

Fremont Pass (11,318′) CD

Named for 1856 Republican presidential nominee John Charles Fremont although he never crossed it. Two narrow gauge railroads were built over the pass in the 1880’s, the Denver and Rio Grande and the Denver and South Park. The most dramatic scenery here is the mine. Entire mountains have been erased, with one undergoing the process.

Independence Pass (12,095′) CD

The town of Independence was named for the ghost town of Independence, founded July 4, 1879. Before that, it was known as Hunters Pass. It’s the highest paved crossing of the Divide but it’s only open in summers.

Vail Pass (10.663′) CD

This pass had no particular use prior to US 6 being put there in the 1940’s. Appropriately, it’s named for Charles D. Vail, chief engineer of the Colorado Department of Highways. Now it’s I-70, pretty much just another stretch of interstate highway.

Eisenhower Tunnel (11,158′) CD

Okay, this is cheating. The tunnel is not a pass. When the project was started it was called the Straight Creek Tunnel. This is two bores, one named for Eisenhower and the other for Edwin C. Johnson, a governor and senator who advocated for the interstate to cross Colorado.

I had a plane ride seated next to the guy who built much of the tunnel’s duct work. He was about ninety and missing a couple of fingertips. Quite an interesting character.

Spruce Tree House

Posted on July 18, 2013 by dhill

Saturday, July 13

While in Hesperus for Genae’s family reunion, I had a few free hours to attempt a hike in Mesa Verde National Park. After a nice breakfast with the family, I headed to the park. I didn’t have the means to pack a lunch, so I resigned myself to making a detour to the Subway in Cortez. When passing through Mancos, though, I spotted a grocery with a deli and saved myself some time and miles. I got a turkey club sandwich, a triple decker made out of Texas toast. I wondered how I’d open my mouth big enough to eat it.

I stopped in at the visitor center. It’s a new facility just outside the gates of the park. There, I consulted with a ranger. Mesa Verde is built more for people driving around than walking. There aren’t that many hikes in the park, and they really want you to stay on the trail. This makes a good deal of sense – the plateau is riven with canyons, and every one featuring a sheer sixty foot drop. This time of year, it’s also sunny and quite warm. There isn’t any water on the plateau and not much shade, either.

I decided the best option was the Petroglyph loop at the Spruce Tree House. This ruin is self-guided, where Cliff Palace, Balcony House, and Long House required tour tickets. There is a seven mile loop hike available, but it doesn’t feature any ruins. So the Petroglyph hike it was, at 2.4 miles.

First stop, though, was a quick tour through the Spruce Tree House. It’s a bit smaller than the the Cliff Palace, but quite striking nonetheless. A forest fire burned here last year, and was within yards of the ruins. The trees are all piñon pine and scrub oak. Even the best of the trees in the area looked half dead before the fire. Where it burned, there are a few dead trunks standing but only grass otherwise. Most of the road atop Chapin Mesa goes through the burn area.

The trail from the parking lot to the ruins goes down one side of the canyon and up to the ruins from below. The trail switches back several times and is paved with asphalt. In the morning the ruins are cool and shady. It’s only a couple hundred yards from the parking lot to the site, but lots of people were having difficulty. There’s a kiva that you can climb down into, but for the most part you are restricted to the area directly in front of the ruins and entry is forbidden.

The Petroglyph Point trail starts below the ruins and runs beneath the sheer slab of the rock formation that forms the top of the mesa. Sometimes flat rocks are stacked to make staircases, in other places steps are hewn from the living rock. The trail was not very crowded. It had rained the previous evening and it looked like only a couple dozen people had walked here since. It didn’t take long for me to pass a couple groups stopped at the various markers, reading the guide.

It was much warmer than I’m used to, and I went through water at about four times my normal route. After about a half mile, I was as secluded as I could get there. I could hear the group behind me yelling and laughing. The trail follows the bottom of the cliff along the inside of the canyon, neither climbing nor descending; a circuitous route.

A bit less than a mile along the trail are the petroglyphs. I have to admit I was a bit underwhelmed. The first time I saw petroglyphs was on a week long rafting trip down the Green River in Utah. We stopped for lunch one day and took a short hike up the canyon to see them. I remember them as being quite vivid, and on a large scale. These were subtle and small. The sign was almost bigger.

Just before arriving there, I’d been hearing voices ahead of me on the trail. I thought I had caught up to another group. Turns out they hiked out on the loop backwards to where it descends the cliff. This loop is one way, though, and they didn’t go down. I wouldn’t have gone down those steps myself. No problem going up, but not my cup of tea to go down. They hollered down at me: “Is that the petroglyph?”

Before coming up, I saw them a few yards away at the top, posing for pictures. From below, it very much had the sense of “Hold my beer and watch this!” One false move and they’re a splash of color on the rocks below.

The return part of the loop goes along the edge of the canyon, just above the trail below. There some places you can see the trail on the opposite side of the side canyon; I could hear hikers below me. Near the end of the loop, the trail crosses through the burned area just above the ruins. There I saw one giant flower; it was the only bright color in sight in any direction. Bees had found it and were going about their work. Who knows how far they have to fly each day? Not exactly a field of wildflowers.