Sept. 15, 2017
Leaving Kansas City feels like a lifetime ago though the calendar assures me we departed amid hugs and tears merely eight days hence. It is a sad fact of life that some of our loved ones reside much too far away; I am grateful for the times we do have together, but always wishing they were not so far separated in time.
With the home stretch ahead of us, we drove through mega-miles of wild sunflowers flung across eastern Colorado’s prairie land as far as we could see before we made our way up, up, up into the mountains, over Wolf Creek Pass to land in Pagosa Springs and get set up just ahead of a storm.
Our perennial perch there is Pagosa Riverside RV Park situated scenically on the San Juan River. We’ve come to love the spot that feels as familiar as home. This year the water’s level was lower than we’ve ever seen it . . .
. . . at least that is until our departure morning when all-night rains upstream brought higher water, muddied with runoff.
We were given a very wet sendoff into the fog, which lifted as we drove while providing vaporous views of the mountainsides.
An eventful week . . .
We have visited Pagosa at least eight times prior to this year and never tire of the alluring, often stupendous landscapes in the region. Our stay this year, though, was very different than any in the past. It was most definitely a social week with far less explorative boondocking than is our norm.
Susan, Tom and a dog . . .
We first met Susan & Tom last year in Craig, Colorado, and whiled away an enjoyable evening with them. More recently, we were startled to discover that they and we encamped at the very same RV park on the coast of Oregon at the very same time and never had a clue.
Fast forward: they informed us that they would be in Bayfield, Colorado, while we were in Pagosa, so we decided to effect a meetup. The resulting wander along Beaver Meadow Road and hike from there was not as picturesque as the name implied; however, the company was excellent and I can’t imagine not enjoying time in the Colorado mountains, at any rate.
It was on our drive back down from the heights that we were surprised to see a dog - loose, in pain and lost. Clearly none in our foursome could pass it by, so a halt for assessment and assistance was in order. The canine appeared to be a border collie of sorts and was very happy to see us. She was hungry (though not enough to eat the vegetables out of the wrap I offered her even though the tortilla was consumed quickly) and thirsty and so weak she could scarcely stand.
The dilemma was what to do with her. Tom and Susan made room for her in the back seat with them and we wandered up and down the mountain querying everyone we could find. None of the hunters or campers or passers-by recognized our sleepy passenger.
In the end, we left her with a young family camping up there for a lengthy stay. They agreed to try to find her home or possibly add her to their clan if they could not. Subsequent communication indicated that medical help was in order and she was taken to the no-kill shelter in Durango. I can only hope she finds a place where she is cared for.
How fortunate that we were accompanied by two such compassionate individuals; Tom & Susan remained in the area after we departed and followed up on the dog's welfare.
Fort Worth folks . . .
The most entertaining neighbors ever moved in next door to us and kept us in stitches and scratching our heads in disbelief for most of their stay.
When they first pulled in, they couldn’t set up their rig or even get into the trailer because they had lost their keys somewhere between there and Fort Worth. As they tried calling locksmiths, none of who answered their distress cries, we offered them our storage bin key; they are mostly interchangeable. That allowed them to do some setup; however, they declined our invitation to sit with us until a locksmith should deign to call, the reason being they had with them two dogs and a bird, a sun conure, to be exact.
Time passed, as time is wont to do, and Rick discovered that he could slide a window open and climb into the trailer that way. The ensuing issue was that every time the door closed, it locked, so he kept the ladder handy for when he subsequently needed to crawl through the window.
The next time we glanced over, he was having sewer hose issues; he appeared to be “milking’ the line. Eventually, their problems were resolved and the family was ensconced in their abode, right up until his partner, Judy, drove their pickup into the space number post, a hefty 4x4 wood jobbie, ripping it out of the ground and destroying it.
Next time we spotted Rick, he was hard at work digging a new post hole and replacing the ruined piece.
With that fiasco resolved, there was hope for them to settle down and enjoy their surroundings; however, the fickle finger of fate decreed otherwise.
While Judy was outside with said sun conure riding on her shoulder, Rick appeared with said ladder, evidently a veritable boogyman to the bird which squawkingly departed Judy’s shoulder for a perch high in a tree.
Judy told me her bird was terrified of ladders and water (go figure), so along comes Rick on a ladder spraying water toward the bird, somehow hopeful that it will be frightened back to its human - a futile hope as it turns out.
Instead, the parrot flew into another tree, higher up this time out of reach of the spray. That seemed like a fairly predictable result in my opinion, but my take on the situation was not sought.
At that point, Rick raised the bar, so to speak, by obtaining a long-range nozzle and sprayed away . . . similar result. The situation was getting serious by then; the RV park provided their front-loader and Rick actually climbed into the bucket which was then raised to allow him to further terrorize the bird with the water spray!
All the while, Judy was calling out to the errant avian creature - Echo by name - and encouraging it to come to her. Water, ladder, front-loader: none of it effective, so they opted to bring Echo’s cage out and wait a spell on a picnic table, hoping it would come to its birdbrain senses. Alas, such was not to be, and truthfully, that tactic was nowhere near as entertaining for the crowd of bystanders who offered suggestions and commiserations.
With day’s end approaching, park management again offered assistance in the form of a 20-foot ladder. With it propped against the sheltering tree, Judy scampered on up there and went out on a limb for her pet as bets were exchanged about when she would fall from her wobbly aerie. As her pant leg caught on a branch, the betting accelerated, but at last she wended her way out there and nabbed the offending bird.
As she worked her way back to the more stable tree trunk and ladder - you guessed it - Echo echoed his previous escape and flew. Clearly not one to give up easily, Judy again gained a spot near enough to nab the colorful caperer. She told me later that without a second thought, she whipped that sucker underneath her shirt and somehow regained terra firma without the aid of gravity. . . and she decided to clip his wings.
More socializing . . .
At a previous soak in Pagosa’s hot mineral springs, we became acquainted with Tom & Karen, a Denver couple who are prone to adventure travel around the world and have been to visit us in Prescott. Nice that we were able to set up a meet this year when they became neighbors in their tent trailer.
We four wandered up a dirt road to enjoy a hike to Opal Lake, so called because of its milky hue. The lake is fed by Leche (milk in Spanish) Creek, accessed via Rio Blanco (White) Road. Why the consistent cloudiness in the water in that area is anybody’s guess, but it is unique to that region.
The lake is back-dropped by rugged rocky spires rising above tree-lined meadows and with forested crests.
The water in a pond we encountered along the way was almost iridescent green with views into its depths dotted with islands of underwater algae mats.
The environment in that area was often damply mossy, varying in character with movement from north to south exposure.
As we wandered off trail on our return trip, we ended up with a bit of bush-whacking and creek fording in a light rain.
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| This somewhat unconventional scene apparently had to do with the duo mutually assisting the re-donning of footwear after fording the stream; however, one hesitates to inquire too much into these things. |
The rain came . . . and with it - delightfully crisp forest scenery and mist-shrouded mountains . . .
. . . also the most trashed pickup imaginable after traversing the muddy road.
We also enjoyed a short jaunt into the Piedra River gorge where we lunched by the water and I assumed yet another ridiculous pose for a timer-enabled group photo. Trust me: it is not easy setting up and activating the timer and then scrambling over boulders to get into position for the shot!
Luckily we encountered no animals in need, although there was general consensus that a bear was heard snuffling and shuffling around just below our viewpoint overlooking the river valley. Two of us ventured much too close to the edge of overhanging ledges to attempt a visual encounter with bruin; Tom and I employed more life-valuing stances. In the end, no one saw the alleged bear.
Truly, the views from above and below were stunning! It is one of my very favorite sections of Colorado.
The Swedes . . .
Last year when Chris and I were hiking in the South San Juan Wilderness, the only others we encountered other than a black bear were Anita & Sune, a couple from Sweden who were summering at their son’s house in Pagosa and enjoying themselves at his hunting camp.
Knowing they might be back, I contacted them and we were able to enjoy a morning of visiting and savoring Swedish muffins and cinnamon buns baked by Anita. It was great fun getting to know each other better; what lovely folks they are, with fascinating life stories. One of five children, Sune went to sea at 15 working in a ship’s galley. That was his first time to the U.S. Anita began working at 14. Can’t wait to deepen that friendship; they are pleasant and interesting folks.
Alliances . . .
Whenever we are in Pagosa, we stop by the Hilltop Cemetery to put flowers and flag on the grave of my cousin’s ancestor, William Henry Walker.
While there, we found something changed nearby: two graves had Confederate States of America markers with Confederate flags.
That would not be particularly noteworthy except that one of them was on a grave for Capt. Lloyd Beall whose stone said he was a veteran of the 2nd U.S. Infantry. That got my curiosity up, which resulted in some research to see why he was variously listed as both a United States and a Confederate States veteran.
Capt. Beall was born in 1820, died in 1898. His obituary from the Pagosa Sun explains the circumstance of dual veteran status:
“Captain Lloyd Beall died very suddenly at this place on Sunday near the noon hour. Mr. Beall was a delegate to the Democratic county convention from Chromo precinct, and participated in the proceedings. At the time of his death he was in Schand's place and had been sitting in a chair for a long time. He arose to go out and taking his hat from a nail in the wall complained of not feeling well. He was assisted out of doors and when he returned still assisted by J. M. Keith he suddenly dropped and was caught by Wm. Dyke, but his spirit had flown. Word was sent to Sam Teeson of Chromo, with whom the Captain made his home a part of the time, and also to his brother at St. Louis. In the meantime Undertaker Gross took charge of the remains. Mr. Teeson arrived Monday Morning and in the afternoon a telegram was received from his brother. The later gave instruction to have the remains buried here, and on Tuesday they were laid to rest in the Pagosa Spring cemetery. Deceased had attained the age of 78 years, and was born in the South. He began to serve in the United States army at a tender age and served through the Mexican war. When the civil war broke out he sided with the Confederacy and served through the war, fighting valiantly. Captain Beal had been a resident of this county for a number of years, making his home in Coyote Park and Chromo.”
Although Walker served for the Union during the Civil War, the two men could very well have been acquaintances during their tenure in Pagosa.
Mergansers and more . . .
Why it is that I see common mergansers on the San Juan every time we are at the Pagosa Riverside is beyond me, but it has been true at least once every visit. A flock of six this time were swimming and ducking beneath the water. My photo of them is awful, but I had to show how much they look like the rocks except for that russet helmet-like head.
In addition, the trip list increased when we spotted Lewis' woodpecker, house wren and pine siskin.
In my sadness at leaving the youn'uns in Kansas City, I forgot to note the new birds we spotted there, many of them with the aid of the nice bird blind at the Overland Park Arboretum & Botanical Gardens. Those include ruby-throated hummingbird, red-bellied woodpecker, green heron, eastern phoebe, indigo bunting, downy woodpecker, northern cardinal, Carolina wren, brown thrasher, tufted titmouse and blue jay. What fun it was to enjoy identifying those with Trinity, who meticulously recorded them in her book, with just a little help from Sara.
We are lured to Pagosa at least in part by the hot mineral springs; the array of various sized and temperature pools overlooking the San Juan right in the middle of the historic downtown is perfect for soaking, visiting and relaxing. There we talked with evacuees from Houston's and Florida's hurricanes along with the usual vacationers and locals, even a woman who had just moved to Prescott (Yes, Shannon, it's true).
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| This is the overflow in my favorite pool as it sits above the river. This one has a waterfall that is bliss for standing under and letting the water massage my neck and shoulders. |
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| Reading and napping are the perfect ways to while away the time between soaks, interspersed with gazing out at the river where folks fish and play. |
We spent less time in the springs this time and more time getting reacquainted and enjoying the company of fellow adventurers, all in all a perfect respite from a fairly frenetic summer of traveling.
As is often the case when rain comes, a rainbow brings the promise of change and that was true for our last day at Pagosa Springs.
