It's no wonder that the Teton Range in Wyoming is the most photographed mountain range in the world. Trying to describe the beauty of this place is like trying to describe to someone what a grape tastes like. I've never eaten a grape, so do you think you can adequately describe it to me so that, without a doubt, I could fully understand the experience? I'm not talking about the texture or look…but the actual taste. My guess is probably not. That is how I feel when talking about my pics of the Tetons to people who have never been there. Perhaps making it even more difficult is trying to convey a sense of presence as well, not just "look at the beautiful mountains". A single photograph has the ability to stir up the deepest emotions to those who have some history behind it. Take for instance if you were to show me a picture of your grandmother. I may say "she looks great" or "I bet she is a sweet lady" or "why is she wearing a Falcon's hat". But when you look at it, you not only see her, you smell a roast on the stove, you can taste her sweet iced tea, you can hear her voice saying " if you think you are in trouble now just wait until your daddy gets here", you can feel a big sweet hug, or feel her pulling you by your ear and putting your bad butt in the corner. An analyst may say when you see a picture of a place you have never been, or a person you do not know, you are only experiencing 1/5, or 20% of your senses…that being the sense of sight for those of you who may be falling behind. When a photograph means something to you, all of your senses come alive. That is how I feel when I see pictures of the Tetons. I can feel the cool mountain air, hear the wind blowing through the trees and the sounds of a shallow river making its way across the valley, and taste the fries my mom would always cook for me on the old Coleman stove outside in the campground. French fries surely do have a different taste to them when you are sitting outside watching a sunset over the mountains…as opposed to sitting at home alone listening to the traffic go down Harrison Ave.

I have so many fond memories having been there for the first time when I was 6 or 7 years old, and the latest time in the summer of 2011. We would usually stay just outside the park at a KOA campground near Dubois for a night so we could get up early the next morning and grab a spot in Signal Mountain campground. I remember walking around the campground in the evening as people were just starting to light campfires and the smell of the many different dinners being cooked hovered in the air like a fog. The light and shadows on the surrounding mountains were in a state of constant change as the sun set beyond yet more mountains west of us. I can feel that cool evening air and smell the country cooking as I'm typing this…and I'm smiling a mile wide…and hungry. Just as I had described in an earlier post about the anticipation of seeing Capulin Mountain in New Mexico, I remember the same excitement the next morning when we could finally start to see the towering peaks of the Teton Range coming into view. And one word always comes to mind when I see them for the first time each trip; "majestic". What makes these mountains so much different than others is the fact that there are no foothills on the eastern side (which is the direction we approached from). They jut straight up out the ground to a peak elevation of over 13,700 feet. Seeing them from the "other side", which is to say from the Idaho side looking east to them, they look completely different. It's hard to believe they are the same mountain range.

My childhood memories from the Tetons all pretty much run together. From that first trip up until when I quit going with my parents when I was a teenager (my first trip back as an adult was 2008 and I was…um…OK I was 39) I can't really distinguish one trip from another. I remember being there with cousins and friends running all over the campground, and especially heading down to the lake. The campground, most of the time, was wooded pretty well so although you could see glimpses of the mountains from most of the grounds, we had to be at the lake to see them in all of their glory. But running towards the lake the woods would thin out as the shore drew closer…then the REAL fun began. For you see, to get to the lake we had to slide down an embankment of…oh let's say about 20-30 feet. Some places were sloped at an angle which was flat enough to almost walk down without assistance, but us kids wanted no part of that. We would find the steepest decline and slide down the sand and gravel until we got to the kazillion small rocks and boulders that lined the shore. The lake levels rise and fall dramatically depending on how much water is allowed to flow through a nearby dam, thereby creating a "playground" for us kids. We would literally spend hours between going up and down the slope, skipping rocks across the lake, and trying to build a rock bridge to the other side. Of course we only piled enough rocks to get about 3 feet into the lake. It had quite a drop-off from there so as what happened year after year, we gave up quickly and went back to climbing up and down the embankment. Oh, and the backdrop for all of this was the Teton range just across Jackson Lake. Stunning. At some point late in the day, us kids and the 10 pounds of dirt on us, and in our pockets, would make our way back to the campsites to go take showers and eat dinner. Then, as the sun was fading behind the mountains we would grab our blankets make our way down to the ranger talk at the amphitheater. We knew the time was drawing near for the show when they started playing music over the loudspeakers. And that is when my family first heard John Denver. He immediately became a staple for my family and still is to this day. We had all his albums and began a tradition of listening to his music when we traveled (as well as all the time at home). We saw him in concert many times, including a spectacular acoustic show at the Saenger Theater. I listen to him often, and just as I go back when I see pictures of the Tetons, the same thing comes over me when I hear his songs. My three absolute favorite songs of ALL TIME are his. In no particular order they are "Windsong", "Eclipse", and "Annie's Song". Anyway, back to the amphitheater. Each night a ranger would give a presentation on a subject related to the area. One night it may be about the wildflowers, in the area, the next it may be about the animals that inhabit the park, and the next about how one day I would become a great photographer known around the world. I know you don't believe that…but there are plenty of beautiful wildflowers up there even though it gets very cold in the winter, I promise. When my mom and I were there this past summer (while staying in a cabin right next to the campground) we walked over to the amphitheater to catch a show. It looked EXACTLY the same way as I remember as a kid. It's not real big…probably seats about 50 people on metal bleacher-type seats and there is always a campfire burning off to the side. This night we were treated to the story about the re-introduction of the wolves in Yellowstone, their habits, territories, and how they changed the ecology of the area. It was very interesting!

Well at this point, I'm going to take a break. Time for me to eat another orange juice freezie. Brings a smile to my face every time. In the next entry I'll talk more about my experiences in the Tetons…and how it felt to go with my mom and some cousins there…for the first time since my Dad passed away. I'm very sentimental so this was both a tough, and rewarding trip for me. In the mean time, I've posted some links to Grand Teton National Park below, including my picture gallery from my website. Maybe while I'm digging a fork into a red plastic cup of orange juice sweetness, you can take some time to look at some pictures that mean something to you and think about how they make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside…unless that feeling is that you have to pee. In that case, don't forget to flush.

My pictures from the park

www.nps.gov/grte/index.htm

www.legendsofamerica.com/wy-grandteton.html

http://www.grand.teton.national-park.com/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grand_Teton_National_Park

Greetings from the "Ghost Road"

So after spending a great weekend at my buddy Jay's house in Conroe, Texas, I decided to take a little "side trip" on my way home. I try to do this type of thing as often as possible when time permits. I always keep a big fold-out state map with me for wherever I happen to be traveling for just this reason. Not sure if anyone really uses these things anymore, but they are worth their weight in gold to me. I'm like a kid in a candy store when faced with the opportunity to explore new backroads! The "skinnier" the line on the map, the more interested I am. In addition, usually the more rural the road, the more digits in its designation. So if I see highway 1416 on a map (which is one of the highways I took on this trip) I go for it. They are usually much more scenic than say….I-10. I try to stay away from Interstates when I travel as they usually don't have the type of scenery you can find on a windy stretch of backroad. Plus life moves way too fast. There is one exception though; the stretch of I-70 from the Colorado/Utah state line to Denver. It's like driving through a postcard and is absolutely beautiful. Getting back on track here, before I left Jay's driveway I studied the map and picked out some good looking roads that had me zig-zagging north, to east, to south, to east, to north, etc. Looks like I was plotting a way to lose the cops. Of course, I always keep an open mind when I get to intersections. Do I really feel like going straight…or maybe I should go left…sometimes I just pull over to the side of the road and decide from there. And I LOVE every minute of it. If I had a nickel for every time I've done that I could have one hell of a collection of Pez dispensers. The weather didn't totally cooperate for me to take pics along the way, but I thoroughly enjoyed cruising down the hilly backroads, passing everything from big beautiful farms to abandoned businesses in small towns, to "ghost farms", to old cars, to some 9 year old kids who looked like they were gonna throw their beer bottles at me. Yeah, I come across some characters when I'm out in the country. So one of my "on the spot" decisions had me heading southeast on Highway 787 out of Rye, Texas when out of the corner of my eye on the left side I caught a glimpse of a blue sign. As I passed I looked in my review mirror and thought to myself " what the hell is a "evirD cinecS daoR tsohG". Then I remembered I was looking at it in the mirror and had to translate. It said "Ghost Road Scenic Drive". I IMMEDIATELY found a place to turn around and go check it out. The sign describing the details was in rough shape, so I wasn't able to get a whole lot out of it, but I read about its past when I got home (link provided below). What is crazy is a few months ago I had come across this when surfing the web but didn't really pay to much attention to it. And whadda ya know…I "stumbled" upon it by pure luck of the draw. Or was I being "pulled" there by some unknown presence. Maybe a spirit looking for a ride? Didn't matter to me how I got there, I was THERE. And no way in hell I was gonna leave without exploring…unless of course a resident spirit would have made itself known then, well, I would have left screaming like a child and would have stopped to change my underwear later. In a nutshell, this is an 8 mile, straight as an arrow, dirt road that used to be a rail line. There are some legends surrounding its history, one of them being that it is haunted by a brakeman who lost his head in a railroad accident…and there are many stories of the "spook light" that makes an appearance at night…and that this light is said brakeman with a lantern looking for his head. If you search for "Bragg Road Ghost Light" on Google or YouTube you can see "actual" photos and videos, as well as numerous stories of those who have seen it. I had read a little about the light when I came across the information months ago so I wasn't totally oblivious to what this was about. I watch Ghost Adventures and I'm somewhat of a skeptic, although not closed minded about the paranormal stuff. So while I knew I was taking a chance of perhaps seeing something by taking this drive, I absolutely had to do it. None of the stories I've read ever has any activity taking place in daylight, although I'm sure if I searched more I could probably find something. One kinda crazy thing did happen though. I took my phone out to take a picture of the sign and road to upload to Facebook. I opened up my camera app and held the phone up, framed the picture, went to hit the button to snap it…and the phone shut off completely. No warning, no "powering down". Just kaput. So then I got a little nervous. Was this a warning from Mr. headless brakeman? So the phone fired back up and I took a pic and uploaded to Facebook. I took a few snaps with the camera, got in the truck and started driving. Every so often there were signs that people had been camping back there as well as some hunting trailers. There were also some pullouts with information, but those were in bad shape too and barely readable. I stopped every so often to take some pics…and I was kinda hoping I'd find something in them that I didn't see. But to no avail. It is a dirt and gravel road that I would not drive down after a big rain unless I had a 4x4. I drove the 8 miles where the other end of the road intersects another highway, then turned around and drove back down it the other way. When I got to the other end, I was kinda disappointed that I didn't see anything paranormal…although you can bet if I had I would have completely freaked. Some of the stories I've read since I got home have told tales of cars shutting off and having trouble starting again when the light is around. Let me tell you…had this happened to me…I would have ran, full sprint with soiled pants, all the way back to Abita and called a freakin tow truck. I'd have instructed them to bring that possessed truck right to the nearest river and dump it in. Well, after leaving there I drove up and down some more roads till I finally got back to the interstate just before dark for the last leg of the drive home. Even though I didn't get too many picture opportunities, the drive itself was very satisfying…unlike that BCS championship game. That was much scarier than anything I saw on the Ghost Road.

The road is about 50 miles northwest of Beaumont, Texas along Hwy 787 between Saratoga and Rye, Texas.

I've found that the road goes by a few different names; Hardin County Ghost Road, Bragg Ghost Road, etc. But if you Google either one of those names you will get the same information. Here is a link to information and pictures on the Texas Escapes website: http://www.texasescapes.com/DEPARTMENTS/Guest_Columnists/East_Texas_all_things_historical/GhostRoad1BB901.htm

At the bottom of the page there are a few other links to more information within the site.

The Texas Escapes website itself has extensive information for anyone who wants to see interesting things, including ghost towns, in Texas.

There are other places where "spook lights" are known to exist. They are the Marfa lights in Texas and the Joplin spook lights near Joplin, Missouri. Google those too if you want to get some info.

Well that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed my lil adventure, and I also hope you GET OUT THERE AND EXPLORE!

The only constant is change...

…or so "they" say. Some additional things "they" say: "One step at a time"…"baby steps"…"you have to walk before you run"…"you eat an elephant one bite at a time"…"your shnitzel is in my karfegnoggin". 2012 promises to be perhaps the most dynamic year in a long time. I could see it coming a mile away (something else "they" say). So what am I doing about it? See what "they" say above. There are some things beyond my control on the horizon, but also some things I'm taking control of. Ever since I had given up carbonated drinks for lent last year, I've progressively - up until New Year's Day anyway - drank more and more of them up to the point where I felt like I was carrying a brick in my stomach. I knew it was causing me to gain weight too, but I was truly addicted to Diet Coke to some extent, but Coke Zero was my crutch. Some days I know I had 8-10 cans. Sometimes days would go by without me drinking any water at all. With all of the upcoming events this year, I was hesitant to try and remove myself from the world of carbonated drinks. But after feeling more and more like I was carrying an aquarium full of water, and some of those colorful rocks and a palm tree or two in my stomach, I decided to pull the trigger on quitting. So I had my last Diet Coke around 7pm New Year's Eve night on my way to a friend's house to ring in the new year. It has not been easy keeping this resolution, especially when I'm driving around with my camera taking pics. I think I know how people feel when they have to have a cigarette in certain situations. I've never smoked but the urge to have an ice cold Coke really eats at me sometimes. But here I am, 1 day after my birthday, still going strong and making myself do this. I've been drinking lots of water and something else that I might find myself having to give up for next year's resolution….McDonald's sweet tea. Man that stuff is good! I can just see me laying in a gutter one day with 20 empty large cups and Popeye's biscuits scattered all over the ground around me and I'm screaming "don't touch my babies" while the people with a straight-jacket take me to meet some "nice people who care" about me. I have to stay away from Popeye's too. Those biscuits are like little pieces of heaven. Oh and I've noticed some weight beginning to drop off…not much but it's a start!

So with that resolution hitting on all 8 cylinders, and my determination to keep it going, I've given myself another self-imposed task; to be a better person from top to bottom. This can be tricky, and also is hard to measure. How do you tell if you are a better person or not? When people stop cursing you out for putting all the DVD's from the $5 bin at Walmart in their baskets? When people answer "a much nicer person than before" to the question "what the hell are you looking at?" when I'm in the frozen food section at Winn Dixie? When I quit scaring the bejeesus out of little kids on Halloween because it makes me laugh? Anyway…hindsight is always 20/20 and I look back sometimes and see so many situations where I could have done a better job being "me". I'm a happier person when I can contribute to the happiness to others around me. Some people are happier when they dress like a sheep-herder and dance around to the song "Safety Dance". To each his own I guess. I have some plans on how to tackle this, but I'm going to just keep them to myself and see what works and what doesn't. I have some ideas. Only time will tell. I'll get into the other changes, some major, coming up soon in another blog entry.

One last thing I've decided; that is to quit trying to pursue doing photography for a living. I absolutely LOVE taking pictures…and that is EXACTLY why I will maintain it as a hobby. I do not want it to become something that I have to do to survive, but something that I want to do. While it may not make a whole lot of sense to everyone, it makes perfect sense to me. I believe if I had to depend on it to eat at night and pay my bills, I would eventually lose my love for it and maybe even resent it. I can't, and won't do that. I feel less stress just saying that, because for a long time I wanted nothing other than to have my hobby as my career. What also relieves stress for me…orange juice freezies. I'll buy a half gallon and fill up 4 of those red plastic cups and put them in the freezer…and check on them every 10 minutes waiting for them to freeze up. YUM!

More to come soon! Another resolution…blog entries more than once a year or so…we'll see how THAT goes.

If you want to get a good insight into the history of the Oregon and California trails, as well as the geology of the land in which the pioneers crossed, read the book "Hard Road West; History and Geology along the Gold Rush Trail" by Keith Heyer Meldahl. I had no idea how hard it was on these families who packed everything and went west in search of the American dream. It will certainly make you appreciate what you have, no matter how much or how little. On a GOOD day they would move the same distance as we can in 15 minutes on the interstate…unless you get stuck behind the old couple in a 1989 Chevy Lumina with a missing hubcap and those nasty yellow headlights. Very informative and a great read.

Asleep at the wheel; the quest to become a better photographer

So yeah...asleep at the wheel...I've not updated this blog since I got back from my trip in early June, but hey life has been hectic. Been busy...I had to plan and execute a payback for one of the perpetraters who rearranged my house for me while I was gone. Mission accomplished. Ever hear of "Christmas in July"? Well, that is what Pam came home to. I mean...that's what I heard anyway. I had nothing to do with it O:-). Also been busy taking pics. I've been pushing myself real hard to do what I love...no, not eat Famous Amos cookies all day...although I love to do that...been out and about, and in studio when I can to get more experience. One thing photography has done for me; I look at the world completely different now. I see things, I don't just look at them. No matter where I go I'm constantly thinking about how the scene is composed, how it reacts to light, and how it may look from a different perspective. For instance, if you happen to be walking along a path somewhere...could be anywhere...your obvious reaction is to watch where you are going. Safety first, of course. But do this...stop and look around. Look down...get down on your back and look at the trees from a lower vantage point...turn around and look behind you...look closely at the ground...at the shadows and how they interact with the things around...lay on your stomach and look at a flower that's close to you and examine it...and take note how things in the distance become blurred when you are focused on something right in front of you...walk around and see how the scene changes when the sun is behind you instead of in front...or on your left instead of your right. I could go on and on, but I think you get the point now. While thoughts go through my head about how a scene like this would play out in a picture, it's more about the experience than what might look good on paper. The world is amazing and when I see people walking fast, jogging, or running along the lakefront and don't appear to be worried about anything but dropping a pant or dress size, I often wonder if they ever have taken the time out to just see things. I don't judge people by what I see, for I don't know any of these people. After all, we can't always be chillin out looking at nature like that. If so, we'd never get anything done and we would all look like we smoked a bag of weed or something. I spent some time recently in Madisonville and Lacombe doing just what I described. No, not smoking weed, but just taking in nature and looking ALL around instead of just what was in front of me. When I was in Madisonville at the end of the road (near the lighthouse) I was captivated by an old boat partially sunk in the water. There's an old pier that was partially destroyed (perhaps by Katrina) and some reminants of an old camp or something. But was I was most intrigued by was the few broken fishing lines and corks hanging from the old power lines leading out into the lake. Not sure why, but I just kept looking at them and a millions thoughts kept going through my head. I took some pics of all this and they can be seen here. I spent about 2 hours walking around the peninsula. While I took pics, I spent about 90% of my time just seeing everything. It was fantastic.
That's about all I have for now. More to come later. Perhaps not only will I continue to see what the world is all about, but I'll find the time to update this blog more often. Lord knows I have a lot of stuff to say (for a somewhat quiet person). Lots of thoughts about my Dad, life in general, and oh those Famous Amos cookies....


If you are a road warrior like me, check out www.gowestusa.net (especially if you love the west like I do). Lots of great trip ideas if you happen to be heading that way. And if you are...let me know cause I wanna join ya! I'll bring the cookies!

All Good Things Must Come To An End (From Sunday, May 30th.)

Pic #1 - I wonder how long this ore cart has been hanging around up here?

Pic #2 - 24 degrees outside...brrrr.

Pic #3 - My favorite little town on earth, Ouray, Colorado

Pic#4 - I see what Masayuki was doing while we were sleeping

What a great sound to wake up to. Hearing the Uncompahgre River roaring passed the open window was like a beautiful song to my ears...one that only nature could compose and with the cool mountain air filling my lungs I pause and savor the moment before I walk out onto the balcony. Peeking to my left I could see the first rays of sunlight hitting the tops of the mountains while everything else below 13,000ft. was still cast in shadow. But for a small area on the north side of town, this entire community is surrounded by tall jagged peaks and is known as the "Switzerland of America". It's pretty much land-locked and retains a lot of the original architecture from the 1800's, and it also has not been overrun by the rich and famous like Aspen and Telluride have. The walk up and down 3rd street (Hwy 550, the "main drag") thru town is easy, although not flat as the town is pretty-much built on a slant. Be careful if you are drunk, you may trip and fall on one end of town and wind up rolling down the the other end. If you ever go there, you will quickly understand why this is my favorite place in all of Colorado, and perhaps anywhere for that matter. But knowing what I have to do is not what I want to do, I pulled myself away from the river...glancing back a time or two just to get another quick look. We packed up the truck and began to head south through town towards the Million Dollar Highway and the towns of Silverton and Durango. Along the way, we passed the Ouray Chalet Inn. The last time I was here, I called this little hotel "home" for 5 days and it was the starting point for many hair-raising, butt puckering 4-wheel-drive adventures in the mountains surrounding this little Heaven on Earth. Amanda, my parents, and my nieces Sarra and Marissa were with me that first week of June, 2002. One more thing I have to thank my Dad for is introducing me to "Jeeping" in the mountains. There are so many beautiful sights that most travelers never get to see unless they get off the main highways and do some exploring. Yes, some of it is scary but ultimately the rewards are worth the risk. But the risk doesn't deter me...knowing full well that if I'm careful I have no greater chance of getting killed on these roads as I do driving down I-12 to work every day. At least up here there is virtually no chance of running into someone putting on their makeup while talking on a cell phone and eating a biscuit at 75mph. The vast majority of these folks are very courteous and are here for the same reasons as me...they understand the dangers and purpose of traversing these old wagon trails, railroad beds, and mining roads in order to share in the reward...knowing that so few people will lay eyes on these same vistas. A picture may be worth a thousand words, but it's priceless when you add feeling the breeze, breathing the super clean mountain air, listening to the streams and rivers and wind blowing through the trees (up to about 11,500ft anyway...trees don't grow at higher elevations), seeing a deer, bighorn sheep, or bear going about their lives off in the distance, and feeling the warm Colorado sun on your skin. No traffic, no radio, no cell phones. Just nature. Anyway, back on track here, as we reach the end of town (which is a very short drive) the road immediately begins to climb steeply, with a series of switchbacks welcoming us to on of the most dangerous roads in the country. After a quick stop to get some pics of the town from above we head deep into the mountains and watch as the temperature drops on the thermometer in the truck and experience the coldest temperatures we encounter on the trip...24 degrees. After going through a couple tunnels and enjoying the breathtaking views, we pass the entrance to Engineer Pass. This 4WD road is popular because of its easy access off the main highway and access to other old mine roads that are prevalent throughout the San Juan mountains. I conquered this road in 2002 and really wished I had a 4WD right NOW cause we would be driving up this bad boy. It ultimately leads to Silverton, which is our next destination but I have to suck it up and take the blacktop to town. After stopping a few places along the way and checking out some old mines and old log cabins we pulled into Silverton and replenished the ice and gassed up. Although this town is a little bigger than Ouray, it retains a lot of its charm and architecture and is among my favorite places. AS we drove through town towards the road that would take us to Animas Forks (a great, and popular, ghost town) I kept an eye out for the campground at the end of town where we used to stay. As we drive up to it I see absolutely no signs of life there. The campground is closed...and it appears not just temporarily as many businesses will do for the winter...but for good. This is another special place for me. I can distinctively remember lying on my back on the smooth, weathered rocks next to the river at night and looking up at the most stars I've ever seen in my life. The only sounds being the gently rolling, shallow Animas River as it passes within a few feet of me...the wind through the trees that comes and goes as breezes pass by...kinda sounds like rain coming at you from a distance, catching up to you, and passing you by and the occasional wold or coyote somewhere in the mountains. It was the first time I actually saw satellites as they orbit the Earth. They appear as just pinpoints of light...kinda like a shooting star with the light trail and going much slower. They come from every direction as they make their way through space at 17,000mph...although from here they look like they are traveling at 7mph. The millions of stars put off just enough light to make out the silhouettes of the surrounding mountains and cause the snowfields near the tops of the peaks to glow. If there was ever a time and place where I felt the most at peace, I believe this was it. I'm sure everyone has "that place" they can go where all is right...for some it may be church, others it may be hiding out sittin on the toilet for awhile, a walk on the lakefront, in a hotel room with your buddies and a case of beer and funnel, your living room watching your kids play, or that moment when you say "hey ya'll watch this" just before you put the fake roach on your sister's table. I often think about that experience (lying by the river, not the fake roach), but it was amplified when I actually passed the campground. I thought "man I'd love to buy that place and bring it back to life"...who knows...maybe one day. AS we leave the pavement behind and start to climb in elevation we pass old mines and plenty other trucks as this is a fairly easy stretch of road to Animas Forks, which sits at a crossroads for other 4WD trails. There is actually a mine along the way where ore cars, still holding their cargo, hang from cables spanning the valley dozens of feet in the air...frozen in time (see pic above). Who knows how long they have been hanging there...50...60...80 years...at any rate it's very intriguing to see. The last third or so of the road to Animas Forks is where it starts to turn rough. There is a huge sign explaining that only high-clearance and 4WD vehicles should proceed from that point. More on that a little later. As we pressed on, sections of the road are just enough for one vehicle to fit. We made is passes those areas with relative ease and then I got a glimpse of the town and just said "ahhhhh" to myself. OK so maybe it was because I had some flatulence (beef jerky for breakfast), but it was also because I had the feeling of meeting up with an "old friend" again. Last time I was here was 8 years ago, but that trip was not my first time visiting this historic place. I had been here a few times before as a kid, riding in the back seat of a rented Jeep Wrangler that my Dad was driving. I remember getting sunburned back there too but I didn't care. Well, just before we got to the town I noticed the orange cones at a spot where the road crossed over the Animas River. Whoa...now this sight made me a bit nervous. The road had obviously been washed out at some point...and not too long ago. It was repaired but it kinda looked like if you take one of those real skinny Band-Aids from the box (you know the ones I'm talking about) and try to cover a brush-burn the size of a silver dollar on your arm. The repair was not the whole width of the road, which was small enough as it was already...and the river was rolling along at a pretty good clip underneath the road. I was not going to let that sop me so we went across and let me tell you...when I say I had no room to spare on either side of my truck I had NO room. It would not have ended up good had I not crossed it just right. There were quite a few spots where Danny and I talked about his 4WD dually and where we could NOT have gone with it. This is definitely one of those places. But no risk, no reward, right? I was determined to get to the town. There is not a lot of preservation goin on here and it's the same story at many of these ghost towns. The severe winters at these elevations take their toll on these old log homes and businesses. In may towns only a handful of buildings remain were at one time dozens or even hundreds of structures once stood. Between the optional practice of actually taking the timber to new towns back in the day, vandals, fire, and the elements of weather an time these places are destined to eventually disappear for good. Some already have and are nothing more than a place-marker on specialized maps for enthusiasts like me...no physical traces to be found. We walked around a bit and of course I took plenty of pictures (look for them on my website). Again...reluctantly we had to leave even though I really didn't want to. We passed the little sliver of a river crossing and were making our way back down. There was a group of Jeeps off to the side setting up camp or a picnic and I surely was wishing I was up there with them to enjoy the scenery for awhile longer. And then we see a little car coming up...a red Cobalt. WTF?? They clearly did not see the sign back there about the high-clearance and 4WD vehicles only. Then I thought...perhaps "high clearance" is up for interpretation. Kinda like "beauty is in the eye of the beholder". I'm thinkin at this point they just won't make it because we had just traversed the roughest part of the road and it was very rocky. I found a spot to pull over along the one-lane road to allow them room to pass and they stopped. The driver asked me how much further up the road was the town...in his German accent. Dang tourists ignoring the warning signs LOL. So I told him it wasn't too far up the road and we marched on in different directions...me wishing I was heading the way they were instead of the way we were. We bid adieu to Silverton and made our way down to Durango where we had a late lunch/early dinner at Dairy Queen. I sure wish we had those around here...maybe I'll open up one of those too...maybe one day. The talk turned to heading home as I think the pace of the trip was catching up to us and the plan was to start heading home in about 12 hours anyway, so we decided to keep on going. Since the route was going to bring us through Albuquerque I decided to call my funloving cousin Kim and see if she would be home about 7p.m. And whaddaya know...she was in Vegas so we just kept on truckin'. Leaving Albuquerque and heading east on I-40 I was in familiar territory. Route 66, which I drove the length thru Texas and New Mexico last year, parallels the interstate in a lot of places. Sometimes it crisscrosses I-40, sometimes it hugs it, sometimes it's under it, and sometimes it just fades off into the dusty plains with barely a whimper. For as long as the sun gave me enough light to see, I looked out the side windows driving along at about 85mph (the speed limit is 75, but if you ain't doin at least 80 you gonna get run over) at some of the old portions of the overgrown pavement in the distance and thought about all those travelers who drove the Mother Road out west looking for the American Dream. And I think about all those people driving along the interstate having no idea of the crumbling history that sits 100 yards away (at times). Every now and then I'll catch a glimpse of an old bridge just sitting out there on the plains...the old stretch of highway that approached it is long gone...as will the bridges be gone too one day I suppose. And will anyone ever care that this history is now history? I know I will...and I will carry those memories with e always. For me, that will have to do I guess. So as I gaze upon these relics the setting sun put no a magnificent display and a fitting goodbye to New Mexico and Colorado. It was absolutely beautiful...and completely in my rear view mirror which served as another reminder that my truck was pointed east...in the direction of home. One last place I wanted to stop was the Cadillac Ranch just outside Amarillo, Texas, but alas the Earth spun too fast for me and it was dark by the time we got there. I lost all my pics from this iconic spot last year...well not really lost but somehow I didn't back them up before I cleared my memory cards. Oh well, yet another reason to head out west again soon. Danny and I traded driving duties and I got myself some sleep. As we were heading back into Dallas I took over again and prepared for the last leg of the trip. We passed the old picnic area again (which I totally believe is gone now...*sigh*...) and the old familiar gas station just before where the railroad goes over HWY 380 in Denton. We jumped back on the interstate and so ended the back-roads travel. Interstate all the way home now. And as the sun was coming up, the all too familiar sticky, humid, and hot air greeted us like a 300 pound bully. Just 24 hours ago I woke up to the sweet music of the Uncompahgre River and cool mountain air. I wanted to turn around and head west so bad, but the realities of life awaited me back home. Work, cutting the grass, and the nice surprise my friends left me. As I walked in the front door I found my daughter's bed set up nice and neat in my living room. At least the bed was made..sheets tucked in tight, comforter turned down, and stuffed animals chillin out. I couldn't help but laugh...and start planning my revenge. I was too tired to put everything back where it belonged...and besides...they did such a good job I had to savor it for awhile...before it became history. Classic move ladies...but remember..it's us quiet ones you should fear the most.....hahahahahahahaha.

Cruising along...and getting stuck in the snow...well it wasn't ME! (from Saturday, May 29th)

Masayuki enjoying the view of the Uncompahre River from the balcony of the Hot Springs Inn in Ouray, Colorado. She slept on those hooks because she didn't want to get a reputation by sleeping in a room with two guys.

The alarm on my Blackberry is SO annoying! But I guess if it wasn't, I would sleep right through it. But it's a new day with promise of new adventures...starting with the "free continental breakfast". What a joke that is...some Fruit Loops and Frosted Flakes (and probably the knock-off brand, not the REAL stuff), some bread to put in the toaster, and a few rolls. I'll settle for the beef jerky and Famous Amos cookies I have in the truck, thank you very much. After the truck is loaded and a quick stop for a fill-up of gas, which was by the way $3.16 a gallon, its back to yuppieville...err...Aspen. But luckily it's just to the outskirts of town so we can get to the Maroon Bells area and the ghost town of Ashcroft. Before getting ouf of there we will have passed through the traffic circle 4 times...once on the way through the evening before...then back through to get to Maroon Bells about 12 miles down the road...then back from there to the road to Ashcroft which is about 10' away from the entrance to the road to Maroon Bells, but another 12 miles down a different road...then back through to ironically pass the hotel we just stayed at, which is about 30 miles passed the traffic circle. So doing the math....30 miles each way to/from the hotel...carry the 1...looks like about 108 miles of doubling back. So at about 18 miles per gallon...that's 6 gallons at $3.16...I spent about $700.00 in gas going in circles. OK maybe just south of $19.00 but it was worth every minute and every penny. First stop is Maroon Bells. This is another magical place. I remember camping there when I was a kid...near the lake which, when the water is calm casts a perfect reflection of the maroon-hued mountains. They look like 3 bells sortof crunched up together hence the name (pics coming soon to my "Colorado" gallery on my website). They were mostly covered in snow so there wasn't much of the reddish color showing. And the wind was blowing about 98 mph so no reflection today. Just the clearest blue skies and the sound of the running water as the lake empties into the river. The breeze gave the slightly cool air a cold feel, but it was comfortable and not bad at all. I took some pics and then walked up the path along the lakeside, recalling the same walk on the same path many years ago...and many pounds ago...and hair lacking all the grey color...with my backpack full of water and God knows what junk food. I hadn't seen this sight through these eyes in so long, but I remember it so vividly. It was almost like a dream...not the kind where you are back in elementary school in your underwear...but like I had been there just yesterday. So I made a mental note to myself that I will come back here and plan for more time to take the hike as we had done years ago...from Maroon Lake up to Crater Lake. I might need an oxygen bottle and a winch but I really want to do it. So after some pics, reflection, and letting loose a little flatulence (oops) its back to Maroon Creek Road...and back through the traffic circle...and going 10' through it and on to Castle Creek Road to Ashcroft. Have a mentioned that is must be a state law where everyone must own a bike? And they must ride it on the highways? Ok well, there ya go. Anyway on to Ashcroft, another old ghost town and a "must stop" along the way. There are a few buildings left and an old wagon sitting in a field. According to the sign there is some preservation going on, but it appears mostly aged. The old hotel has some new wooden steps and porch on it, but otherwise everything appears to be original timber. The wagon just fascinates me (again, more pics to be posted on my website but those of Ashcroft will be in the Ghost Towns gallery). It is deteriorated badly, but I wonder who may have rode on it, how did it end up in this spot, etc. When I look around these old towns a million questions go through my mind like that...ok maybe I'm exaggerating...more like 700,000 questions but still. After walking around, taking some pics, flatulence (oops, well you know to scare the bears away), and reflecting on the past it's time to get on the road again. So after passing through the traffic circle for the last time the open road calls. We passed through some beautiful country and took the quick side trip to Marble. Not much going on here, but LOTS of marble slabs all over the place. The quarry here produced the marble that is used for the Tomb of the Unknown Solder. A quick u-turn and it's back to the Highway. We stopped for lunch in the little town of Hotchkiss. Danny got an elk burger at a little local restaurant, and I got a cow burger (for a change). While he said it was good, it was obviously a frozen patty which is what we were not expecting. So much for trying something different...he said it mainly tasted like a frozen cow burger. We then headed down Hwy 92 towards Blue Mesa Reservoir. This narrow 2-lane road gave us some spectacular views...and scary too. As many of the other highways around here, one wrong turn and you will not be waking up in the morning. I realize I hadn't mentioned Masayuki yet. Well, she sat in the back and was scared stiff...litterally. After stopping a few places along the way, one of them for me to get my "towering aspen trees" shot (will be posted in the Colorado gallery) we were headed down passed Telluride and to the ghost town of Alta. As we exited the highway and onto Alta Lakes Road, it was soon apparent to Danny that I will go just about anywhere to see what I want to see. The road quickly turns into a steep, one lane, unpaved butt-puckering (that was Danny's term for it) drive up the side of a mountain. The rules of these Jeep Roads, as they are commonly known around here, are that the person going uphill has the right-of-way. If you should meet someone and cannot pass (which most if it was this way) the person coming downhill either has to give way...even if it means backing up. Not something that you really want to do. So as we gain elevation we begin to see snow patches around...then there are some small snow patches in the road...then there are some big snow patches in the road. Not enough to stop me. Then came the point where I realized we were not going to make it to the top. We were at a switchback and could see there was just too much snow covering the road to go any further. Then we see a white Explorer sitting in the road up the hill. I thought they were backing down and we realized they weren't moving. Danny suggested we go see if they need help, which we did. We walked up and saw these women walking around trying to stick rocks under the tires. They had tried to plow through the snow and got high-centered so bad that even in 4-wheel drive they could not budge. There was a couple in a Toyota FJ trying to come down, which they couldn't because these girls had the road blocked. So then I start to think...was the Presidential election controversy in Florida with the "hanging chads" handled properly? After that we tried to push the truck out while the driver gassed it in reverse...then my thoughts turned to "if this thing breaks loose and slided backwards, the next thing it will hit is my truck and they will both be out of commision". But not to fear, that thing didn't budge. We tried jacking it up to put as many rocks under the tires as we could but that didn't work. So then I tried to back my truck up the hill to hook my strap to it and pull it out. Well, I guess the exra pounds from the Nerds just made my ass too heavy to get traction cause I kept getting so far and my wheels would spin. At one point my front tire got close to the edge and I thought Danny was gonna have a heart attack. Not me tho...I knew what I was doing. So after changing my tighty whiteys and taking a deep breath we realized that I just wasn't going to make it. So I drove back down and parked out of the line of fire. So then the decision was made to have the FJ push the Explorer and see if they could free it up. It didn't take much of a push and it was broken free at last. Oh, and that was after the dude coming downhill on the bike said "well, there isn't much I can do for you" and kept on truckin. Gee, thanks for nothing. I was sooooo tempted to get them all to take a pic with Masayuki but I think they had been through enough so I didn't mention it. Everyone got down the mountain OK and I didn't get to Alta. I was very disappointed because I keep reading that this town will be nothing but a memory soon. It is very close to Winter Park where many high-rollers live and word it the property this ghost town sits on is slated for development. I lost all my pictures of the town in Katrina and I was really hoping to get more before it is gone forever. So it's not like I need an excuse to go back to Colorado, but I really want to get to it before someone is parking a Mercedes where the miners bunked a hundred years ago. We passed back through Telluride and stayed in my FAVORITE Colorado town, Ouray. I absolutely love this little town. We checked into the Hot Springs Inn, in which all the rooms have a private balcony overlooking the river. We then drove into town and got some GREAT pizza (for a change) and some ice cold Bud. I quickly forgot about my missed opportunity with Alta and counted my blessings for being back in this town I love so much. It's known as the "Switzerland of America" because of its location in a small area surrounded by mountain peaks. The little bar we ate at was just perfect. I soaked it all in...what a great evening. So when we got back to the room we opened the window and fell asleep to the sound of the Uncompahgre River rushing by just outside...

Masayuki is rollin along...and gets injured...oops...(from Friday, May 28th)

Pic #1: Masayuki breathing some of the fresh Colorado air on Phantom Canyon Road

Pic #2: Masayuki at the "Brass Ass" casino. She didn't win any money...she just couldn't get a good hand.

Pic #3: Masayuki at the top of Independence Pass near Aspen

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I can't remember a time where I slept about 14 hours before...notwithstanding those times after surgery when I was taking pain pills. I don't like them cause they make me feel like I'm on another planet somewhere. I know what you are thinking so don't bother saying it. Anyway after the previous day's marathon 20 hour drive with no sleep and a greasy dinner (big surprise there) I took a shower and the plan was for us to check out the local scene in Pueblo. But once I stopped and put my head on the pillow I was done. We headed out the door about 6:30 a.m. or so and went straight west into the mountains. We hit Phantom Canyon Road...one of those awesome unpaved backroads with tunnels and bridges and rivers and mountains all around. This one was quite tame compared to some I have been on before, and some we hit on this trip (more on that in follow up posts). We encounterd but 2 cars the whole trip. One of them we happen to meet head on at one of the one-lane tunnels. So being courteous I backed up and let them through. The second car came up behind us and again, being courteous I stopped to let them pass me by as I could see the Colorado plate on the front of the car. I figured it was another local that likes to drive these roads at 70 mph but in this case it was a couple from Florida who was heading to the casinos in Cripple Creek. They pulled up along side and asked us if we were lost. I should have said "yes, I was going to the store for some hot dogs and I think I missed a left turn in Albuquerque". But, being courteous, I was polite in saying "no" and told them we were going to Victor and Cripple Creek. They explained they live in Florida and come up to the casinos. Danny tried to inquire as to whereabouts in Florida they live, but they sped off. I guess the "double jackpot points" on the Wheel of Fortune slots were about to end or something. So we pressed on slow and stopped a few places for pics. Danny also inquired about drinking water from a mountain stream so we figured what-the-hell why not? So he did...we were waiting for the cramps or glowing skin and it didn't happen so it must have been OK. We arrived in the small town of Victor and checked out some old mines which are all around town. Then we drove the additional 6 miles to Cripple Creek. This is one of the few towns in Colorado which allows low stakes gambling. And just about every building there is a casino. We decided to grab a bite to eat before pressing on (I got pizza for a change). After manuvering passed the busses which obviously had brought in crowds from the local retirement homes we found our way to Independence Pass which we needed to cross before getting to Aspen. It had just opened from being closed all winter. This is one of the most beautiful drives around and it crests out at over 12,000 feet...and it's not for the weary (I'll have pics posted in my "Colorado" gallery on my photography website soon). There are spots where waterfalls empty onto the roadway...we kept seeing wet cars coming from the other way and wondered what was going on. I had not been on this road in about 28 years or so and it was just as spectacular as I remember it. And just after taking the pic by the sign...well...you see...I put Masayuki in my back pocket because walking over the snowbanks...well...it was a lil slippery and well...I slipped...and fell on top of her and...well...thankfully I had kept that piece of tape holding her head on after I glued it because her head may have gone rolling down the side, gaining speed and snow until she was a 10' snowball barrelling down the side and...oh I don't even want to think about the damage she could have done. Had that happened, I would have thrown her body into the little Subaru next to me that the foreigners were in and said "they did it". So anyway her head is still attached...somewhat...and I'll re-glue it later. We also stopped at the ghost town of Indepedence. Part of the reason for me take this trip was to visit a half dozen or so of these relics before they return to nature. I have a place in my heart for the old towns as they pique my curiosity about how life was back then. It certainly was not easy. No internet...wow...what would we do with the kids? Anyway we arrived in Aspen and damn has that place changed. Way too much big money around there for our tastes. People who saw us driving in my lowly Avalanche probably thought we worked for the sanitation department or something. Lots of Beemers, Mercedes, etc. riding around that town. We walked around a bit and really didn't like it...we felt out of place...so we went to to a town that just sounded more like blue collar..."Carbondale". We checked in the hotel and walked across the street to a little 50's style diner and had a few beers and dinner...and that's about it for the day. See ya!

P.S. Since I was on the east side of the continental divide, (as seen in the picture from Indepence Pass) had her head rolled down the side of the mountain and ended up in the river, it would have eventually wound up in the Mississippi River and ultimately in the Gulf Of Mexico as opposed to the Pacific Ocean had I been on the other side of that sign. Wow...talk about adding insult to injury had her head been tangled up in that oil spill...