Buena Vista
September 9, 2015

Our first week at Buena Vista convinced us the region warrants a far longer visit.  It seems a prime central spot to enjoy hiking, both in the high country and more sheltered granite canyons, fishing via boat and shore on Twin Lakes, Cottonwood Lake and others and in the rivers and creeks, hot springs soaks and historic explorations.

The only catch is in the town name’s pronunciation.  To avoid being branded an outsider, one tries to remember not to say Bwena as would be the “proper” Spanish way, but to say Buna Vista, and to do it without apologizing for massacring the word.  At any rate, it is aptly named: there are indeed good views all around.

Interlaken, Jim & Lexie . . .

Lexie and Jim were our guides for a ride across Twin Lakes to wander through the ghost settlement of Interlaken, a place made unique by its being the only National Historic Register site that has no road access, only by boat or on foot.  19th Century tourists arrived at Interlaken by train to a stop nearby and then took a short ride by stage or carriage.

There's our boat, the Molly Brown, waiting for us.

Our choice was a good one - they were very knowledgeable about Interlaken’s history and the surrounding countryside, and they both were interesting to get to know.  Jim was a Wyoming boy; Lexie hails from Caddo Lake in East Texas where the duo led boat tours in that swampy country, infinitely different that their current endeavor.

Unlikely as it seemed to me, they are avid skiers, so when Lexie declared an end to heat, humidity and incessant insects, Twin Lakes in Colorado was an appropriate area to take up residence.  They run their business during summer months and enjoy their snow sport otherwise.

James Dexter developed the Interlaken resort after it was built in 1879 and operated it until the 1890s.  The resort was lavishly furnished as was his private residence - an interesting structure that takes full advantage of the lake and mountain views.

Many of the structures are gone; of those still standing, there is the original hotel and annex,

a barn,

and a few others, including twin ice houses.

The resort evidently boasted landscaped grounds, a dairy and gardens.

The McMillens, Jim & Lexie, have adopted a proprietary interest in the property and work to maintain it, a task that has been relegated to the back burner by the Forest Service.  They visualize the site being used as a living history facility. 

The house and barn are accessible by any of the general public that care to boat or walk in; I am astounded that there is not extensive damage/vandalism.

Twin Peaks and Mount Hope.  We spotted a lone California gull over Twin Lakes.  Additional trip birds in that area were ferruginous hawk and Brewer's blackbird.

Twin Lakes, Independence Pass . . .

In addition to the pair of lakes, which are very popular with kayakers and water boarders, there is a lovely little village of the same name.  Its niche nestled up against the base of the high peaks created a major calamity in 1962, when an avalanche buried a bunch of residences in the early morning hours.  Seven people perished without ever knowing what hit them; others were pulled out alive.

Now the peace is broken only by tourist traffic and bears that wander into town and are bean-bag hazed by the local Game & Fish ranger.

We quite enjoyed a leisurely lunch on the front lawn of the Shooting Star Gallery, which has obligingly provided tables and chairs under their shade trees.  The gallery owner and those artists we met were outgoing and friendly, a most pleasant experience.

Twin Lakes is on the road to Independence Pass, hence upward we must drive to see the sights, and a hairy drive it was!  Never one to be excited about precipitous driving conditions, my tolerance for such has obviously declined by leaps and bounds (pardon the expression) in recent times.  That road’s narrow hairpin turns and dizzyingly steep dropoffs are plenty to get anyone’s attention; in my case, once is far too much.  I have no need to drive over Independence Pass again.

On many high peaks, there are isolated patches of snow remaining from last winter.

The high-country aspens are beginning their autumn color change.

That entire valley is marshy with some open water along the meandering creek bed, completely filled with beaver workings.

One feller was camped at the pass for a couple of nights with his impressive telescope array set up, watching the night skies - "nothing in particular", he said.  "Brrr", I said.

Those Rocky Mountains consist of one stunning sight after another, each more glorious than the next.  Even my amateurish attempts to photographically record the scenes offer a glimpse of the grandeur.  The downside are the roads to access those sight that must go up and over many times to get anywhere.

Brown’s Canyon . . .

The nation’s newest national monument, Brown’s Canyon, near Buena Vista, is a delight - huge granite-bouldery mountains cut through with twisting cottonwood- & piñon-filled canyons.  I heard the siren call from those canyons that want to be explored by me.  Our hike into the area was relatively short, starting late in the day, but plenty sufficient to know that I want to do more there. 

The place is a proposed wilderness area, the trail rated as primitive, and it lived up to its name.  We did the crazy scarecrow arm-flailing dance several times to stay upright, but so worth it - I’m suspecting a part of my attraction is that it reminded me of home, and home is most assuredly calling me after our three-month journey across this great land.

Cottonwood Hot Springs . . .

Besides the disappointing Mt. Princeton Hot Springs, another public hot spring near to Buena Vista is Cottonwood; it turned out to be just the ticket for us.  Small sculpted pools partially shaded by sail cloths are nestled along Cottonwood Creek.

It was the perfect setting to soak, eat lunch and get acquainted with a passel of fun and interesting folks.

The cold plunge pool lacks popularity, to put it mildly.

Israelis, home decor . . .

To adopt my friend Diana's mother's term: what a coinky dink!  There I was soaking away, eavesdropping on a nearby conversation (it was completely inadvertent, I assure you) when I had no choice except to butt in.

The coincidences (coinky dinks) continued beyond what seemed plausible.  First, Woman A asked a young man a simple question, turns out she asked only to hear his his expected accent.  Following only his one-word answer, she immediately recognized the accent and asked him if he was Israeli.  He was, and then ensued much conversation.  Seems that Woman A's step-daughter and granddaughter are Israeli; she and her husband have spent extensive time in that country.

Much laughter and note comparing later, Woman A asks Young Man where he lives and what occupation he pursues.  Seems he and she both live in the Denver area, where he installs window blinds as a free-lancer.  Well then, isn't that perfect - seems that Woman A's sister, Woman B, who is also soaking, is an interior designer in need of an installer of window blinds in the Denver area.

Interesting, says Young Man, that he recently worked a job next door to a house that flies both the American and the Israeli flag.  Coinky dink - those flags flying were at Woman A's house; Young Man was working right next door to her.

So not only were new friendships forged, needs for work and for service were fulfilled, and all were in awe of how it came to be.

Later in our soak, we had the nicest conversations with Woman A, Woman B and Betty who my memory tries to tell me is their cousin-in-law.  We talked Agent Orange, professions, art (A & B are artists), genealogy, history, travel, family, and more.  I soaked and sunned to a fare-thee-well, much longer than I would have otherwise simply because I  hated to leave, shades of meeting Tom & Karen last year at Pagosa.

One final coinky dink - Woman A's best school chum lives in Prescott and is someone we know.  

Young Man, Woman A & Woman B

Nessie, mermaids . . .

On a cut-out on the cliff above the pools is a Loch Cottonwood dragon, which Chris had to climb up to.  Since he was going anyway (a "while you're up" kind of thing), I suggested he take the camera to photograph us mermaids from above.

Four mermaids, one merman

Arrowhead Point . . .

We checked out other RV parks in the Buena Vista area with an eye toward a future visit; this time the Labor Day holiday filled up most of them so we stayed at Arrowhead Point.  It was nice enough - good facilities and sites, but a bit out of the way and little shade.

We did meet up with some superb-type folks there, though.  Art & Babette are also interested in seeing Picket Wire Canyon, so that might be a future joint venture.  Ewan and Chris hit it off well, and there were Drew & Jackie on one side who had been youth workers with wall-to-wall youngsters sleeping on their trailer floor.  On the other side was a couple who were out for the three-day weekend with their two children, each of whom had brought along a friend.  It was awesome to see what they did for the young'uns holiday: the trailer had six bicycles stashed in it, and all the accoutrement's for the entire crew.  A job indeed to cook, clean-up, equip, and entertain that bunch.

This is Stella, a stellar pooch - she always carries her toy on walks; it helps her to refrain from growling at passers-by.  I neglected to ask her daddy's name.

A western scrub jay liked to throw seed out of our feeder; he and our critter shared the leavings.

Chris followed the critter to his lair where they had a stare-off; the critter won.