Rocky Mountain High

May 14-16, Breckenridge, Colorado

This trip through the grand state of Colorado has been a bit of a bonus for us as it was not a part of our original travel itinerary. We are so glad we chose to come this way from South Dakota to Southern California. Vic had never before set foot in this state so it has been fun just to watch him ogle the scenery with wonder in his eyes. The cutest thing he said was “I think I could have enjoyed life as a park ranger in these mountains.” Coming from the self-proclaimed city boy who felt most at home in the Sunset District of San Francisco in his early years, this proclamation was all the more endearing. Spending less than a week in this state is a cruel injustice, but it has clarified our desire to spend more time here on our jaunts across the country. This morning I saw an advertisement for the Telluride Film Festival to be held Aug. 31- Sept. 3. Just the impetus for another trip this way?

We have spent the last two days at Tiger Run RV Resort just a few miles north of the enchanting ski town of Breckenridge. My brother had recommended this 10/10/10 Trailer Life park as he stayed here many times in the 90s when he loaded up his family in Illinois and drove his motorhome here for a ski trip. The park could not be any lovelier. Vic and I felt like we entered a postcard scene with RV sites and small rustic cabins situated among the pines, budding aspens, and dramatic snow-capped mountains. The brisk air and alpine fragrance is intoxicating enough to cause you to start thinking about ways to own a piece of this mountain paradise.

Our fabulous site at Tiger Run

One of several inviting cabins at Tiger Run

A privately owned RV pad with stone fireplace

A stream with pathway next to campground

Breckenridge was originally an old mining town (a 7.5# gold nugget was found here), so it still has a bit of this character left in its historical buildings and even in its contemporary storefronts. By the 1960s, it was almost a ghost town with most of the mines closed when the idea of building a ski run took hold. It is now known as a world class ski destination with the highest chair lift and the most skiers in any one year (1.5 million) in North America. The ski season can stretch from November through April, but the snowfall this year was minimal so the season ended early. We discovered many of the town shops and restaurants had “Closed for the Month” signs on their doors, with the proprietors taking a break before the rafting, biking, fly fishing, and golfing tourists come to town. We didn’t mind that the town was sleepy; it was great to have the streets mostly to ourselves. We still could have taken the opportunity to take a gondola to the top of Peak 8, but Vic’s love of heights was a distant friend that day. There are also several incredible bike trails, one popular nine mile ride parallels Highway 9 from Breckenridge to Frisco, but to be honest, we were both struggling a little with the altitude of nearly 10,000 ft. I had forgotten that it takes a few days to adjust to the thin, dry air. Instead of pursuing any big adventures, we enjoyed walking throughout town and along a tributary of the Blue River next to our campground.

Downtown Breckenridge near dusk

Another highlight was visiting the Breckenridge Distillery, a place our friend Jeff from Ft. Collins had enthusiastically recommended. The distillery just won the distinction of having their bourbon receive one of only three gold medals in an international spirits competition. The place was surprisingly small for the amount of bottling it did: high end vodka, their famous bourbon (with more rye than most), spiced rum, aperitif bitters, and a single malt scotch still being aged in the kegs. Of course we enjoyed a free tasting of their various hooch and took an interesting tour which took all of fifteen minutes—they have only one still, but it holds 500 gallons. Fascinating business--one I would be interested in with my background in restaurants (much earlier part of my life) and my enthusiasm for zesty cocktails.

Their one still holding 500 gallons

Spiced rum fermenting in the tank

Another fun place to visit nearby was the much smaller town of Frisco, population 2400, just a couple miles from our campground. “Frisco” was not named after San Francisco; the name came from a combination of letters associated with the St. Louis-San Francisco Railway Company, an important mode of transportation in these early mining and trapping towns. The locals call Frisco the “Main Street of the Rockies.” Flanked by the Ten Mile Range to the west and the shores of Lake Dillon to the east and with an elevation over 9000 ft., it is a quintessential Rocky Mountain village.

A perfect cappuccino I enjoyed at the Butterhorn Cafe in Frisco

At the end of our time here, we both felt like we had just whet our appetites for the experiences that still await us in exploring Colorado. This is no tropical paradise with a beach, but we also have a spiritual calling for spending time surrounded by panoramic mountain vistas, meandering rivers, and pastoral valleys.

Hats off to Sunbonnet Farm

May 11-14, Ft. Collins, Colorado
Our trek from Rapid City, South Dakota to Fort Collins, Colorado took about seven hours almost straight south. I am happy to report that we were finally successful in setting up a Harvest Host stay about 15 miles north of Ft. Collins at a small place called Sunbonnet Farm. The owner, Pam Parham, is a retired schoolteacher who takes in rescue animals, primarily donkeys. This seventeen acre farm looks out to the foothills of the Rockies and the peaks of the Medicine Bow Mountains.

When we arrived about 4 p.m.,  Pam and her farmhand, Dave, warmly greeted us in the driveway and gave us a few choices about which view we would like for parking our rig. I felt an instant affinity and admiration for her both as a teacher and as someone living close to the land. Her farm consists of two horses, both Paints, four donkeys rescued from the killing lot, two geese, one rooster, and six hens, one standard Poodle named Maugan, and two cats. Before I realized what she was doing, I had a bowl of freshly laid eggs in my hand for our breakfast. Now, what you may not know is that I have always wanted a mini-farm so staying here is my idea of heaven. The only downside was the weather had turned unseasonably cold and overcast, hindering our stellar view of the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

Pam and Maugan going to the henhouse

Check out the decor in the henhouse; it even had rooster valances on the windows.



Rio the horse

When making arrangements with Pam for our overnight stay, she extended an invitation for us to stay longer to have time to enjoy the area when the weather cleared. We were happy to oblige, but had to keep in mind that we were boondocking so we would have to conserve water and electricity. The spot we parked our motorhome looked onto the horse and donkey corral with pastures, a lake, and mountains for a backdrop.



Our primary focus for coming to Ft. Collins was to see our friends, Jeff and Debbie, who had moved here last summer from our hometown of Corvallis. They were free on Saturday so good weather or not, we were looking forward to reconnecting, seeing their new home, and exploring old town in Fort Collins together. They had also never seen our “new home” so they drove out to the farm for lunch and for a pleasant walk around the farm before we all headed back into town.



Debbie with the horses and donkeys

We had a terrific tour of their temporary condo, their newly purchased 1960s ranch style home in a wonderful neighborhood just blocks from campus, and several highlights of various neighborhoods in Ft. Collins including the vibrant and hip area called Old Town. We learned from Jeff that one of Walt Disney's friends used to live in Fort Collins and ended up using the town as a model for the buildings along Disneyland's Main Street. Jeff and Debbie gave us a walking tour of old town. We were impressed with the town’s obvious commitment to the arts—decorated alleyways, unique sculptures, and beautiful landscaping adorns the streets. They even have small covered stages on several corners with painted pianos available for both spontaneous and scheduled musical performances. The town is also extremely bike friendly—you can "check out" one from the bike library if you don’t have your own—and dog friendly with fancy water dishes available on every block. The restaurants and bars were packed with families celebrating CSU graduation and early mother’s day dinners. We were lucky to have reservations at Enzio's an upscale Italian restaurant in the heart of downtown. We were also lucky to have time to stop at JAX, a lively fish house and oyster bar for happy hour before dinner. What a fun town, but the highlight was just being with friends with whom we will always have a special bond as part of our Corvallis memories. (And as I write this I am overtaken with a wave of sadness with the reality that half of our group of six couples, including us, no longer live in the same town. I remember seeing this happen with my mother and her friends as they retired and sought new horizons; now it is our turn to experience these changes in our own lives.) On the brighter side, our mobile lifestyle allows us to visit with family and friends across the country.


The bike library in Ft. Collins

Old firehouse circa 1881 converted into bookstore and coffeeshop

On our second full day here, Mother’s Day, we decided to visit Rocky Mountain National Park, about an hour away. The weather forecast was variable but it looked like the morning and early afternoon would be the time to go. Unfortunately, this prediction did not turn out to be true as we had 40 degree overcast skies with occasional rain and sleet when we arrived—not the best conditions for appreciating the beautiful vistas of this park, but we enjoyed going to the museum in the Fall River Visitor Center, seeing the stunning topography, and stopping to view the wildlife, mostly elk.

Twin Sister's peaks in Rocky Mt. National Park

A pitstop near the Twin Peaks

Chapel on the Rock in Allensport, Colorado.  Pope John Paul II prayed here in 1992.

Saint Malo Retreat Center, now closed due to a fire.

One of my favorite views--a bubbling river (Fish River)

By the time we returned to our little farm, the sun had spread across the valley and you could see fresh snow on the peaks where we had been.  Pam greeted us with fresh goose and chicken eggs (which I am saving for a dinner of huevos rancheros). On our final evening here we took a peaceful walk out in the pastures, saying adieu to this little patch of paradise.  Our travels tomorrow take us to Breckenridge.

Three fresh goose eggs with two chicken eggs

 

Windswept and moving on from SD

May 8-11, Rapid City, South Dakota

State Highway 79 heading south out of Rapid City

Our primary purpose for coming to South Dakota was to establish residency here—a highly popular decision for many full time RVers as there is no state income tax, registration of vehicles is fairly inexpensive, and insurance rates are some of the lowest in the nation.  We chose to use a mail forwarding/residency service here called Americas Mailbox.  This is a rather small operation that is run by a couple who are/have been full time RVers themselves; consequently, they pride themselves in providing a variety of services for people like us.  They also have a small campground and guest rooms next to their office so most people staying here share a similar quest. 

We arrived at the end of the work day on Tuesday so our business transactions would have to wait until Wednesday.  The owners, Don and Barbara, were here on site to greet us and walk us through the process for getting our driver’s licenses, registering to vote, making decisions about insurance coverage, and registering our vehicles.

The first step on Wednesday morning was a trip to the DMV.  I have to say it wasn’t like a trip to any other DMV I’ve been to.  They greeted us at the door, asked what we were there to do, and had a whole system ready for full time RVers.  They obviously want your money, but it was only $20 for a five year license and the only requirement for residency was a receipt for a one night stay from a hotel or campground.  Pretty amazing.  Even though the process was simple, the emotions were not.  Both of us felt strange relinquishing our Oregon licenses as Vic had his for 44 years and I had mine for 29 years. Oregon will always be home in our hearts, but this interlude in our lives has required many forms of letting go, part of the price of adventure. We both decided if we were going to pursue this lifestyle, it would be more powerful to fully go for it and doing this South Dakota gig was part of our master plan. 

Vic filling out the paperwork for his SD driver's license

After the DMV, we made a thirty mile trip to see Mt. Rushmore.  The monument is just south of a small town called Keystone, a tourist trap with a late 1800s frontier motif, and the usual fudge shops, black hills gold trinkets, etc.  The monument itself is pretty impressive, even from a distance.  There is a fee for parking, but no entrance fee to the museum or viewing area with trails. After walking to the main viewing area, we caught a short film about the making of Mt. Rushmore which occurred between the years of 1927-1941.  Vic and I were both curious about the choice of the four presidents and learned that each stood for different milestones in our country’s history: Washington --the birth of the nation with victory over England, Jefferson--expansion with the purchase of the Louisiana Territory, Lincoln --freedom with the end of slavery, and Teddy Roosevelt—development of the nation through business, conservation and the creation of the Panama Canal. (Roosevelt was the most controversial choice of the four; apparently, he and the sculptor, Borglum, were good friends.)

A model in museum showing sculpting technique with hanging chisel

Fun to watch all the school children on fieldtrips free of responsibility ourselves

The history of these monuments is not without controversy.  The Black Hills are considered sacred ground to the Lakota Sioux. These lands were granted to them by treaty until gold was discovered –then we stole the lands back and eventually carved the faces of four white conquerors into the hillside.  The building of the Crazy Horse Monument was a direct response to the desecration represented by the carving of Mt. Rushmore. We were going to take a scenic drive around this area to see the Crazy HorseMemorial, a sculpture of even larger proportions, but discovered the drive goes through several winding roads with low overhead tunnels.  We had our Jeep, but our kayaks on top make us at least 9’ and some of the clearances were questionable.  We chose to forego this part of our tour itinerary with some sadness as it only seemed fitting to pay homage to this important Sioux leader.

The Crazy Horse Memorial is a work in progress. This internet  image shows the initial  phase of the sculpture.

This internet image shows what the final memorial will look like when it is finished (60 years after the initial work began.) 

Perhaps the most important grounds to visit in this part of South Dakota are those of Wounded Knee. Having read and taught Dee Brown’s novel, Bury my Heart at Wounded Knee, and recalling the depiction of this massacre in Costner’s film, Dances with Wolves, I would have liked to pay tribute to this site’s hallowed grounds. I discovered, however, that the memorial area does not open until May 16. I would like to pay more attention to Native American heritage and culture as we travel these lands.

Our last day in Rapid City ended up being task-oriented as we still needed to get information on insurance and registration of vehicles and discovered we had quite a bit of paperwork still to complete.  After doing so, we thought we might take a ride to Deadwood but learned that the town is basically all casinos now with a small 1800s museum—plus it was about 75 miles away. Something else was impacting our lack of enthusiasm for exploring: the wind was blowing steady at about 25 mph with gusts up to 50 mph and the temperature was dropping from 73 with expected lows of 40.  Not too pleasant, but we were just happy NOT to be on the road in our motorhome with these winds.  It was so gusty when we returned to the campgrounds that we decided it would be wise to pull in our slide outs as the canvas toppers were flapping to the max.  The constant noise of the wind inside the motorhome had also driven the dogs a little crazy as they were cowering under the table the same way they do when there is thunder.  Holed up in our cozy space for the last night of this South Dakota experience, we listened to the howling of the wind hoping for a less bracing departure to Ft. Collins, Colorado, in the morning.

State Highway 18 which took us out of South Dakota to Wyoming 

The run from Kansas City to Rapid City

May 6-8, Rapid City, South Dakota

A seasoned RVer told me when he is traveling from point to point with few intentions of sightseeing, he calls it "running."  These are also the times when it is wise to find an inexpensive, no frills campground close to the interstate or find a place to dry camp such as Walmart or a Flying J. We have been on the road since late August and have yet to pursue this latter option. In fact, we have only boondocked or dry camped one night on the road in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan when we parked at a closed-down elementary school when visiting some friends in the area. Our only other boondocking experience was at a private rally in the Keys where we had the opportunity to camp on a fabulous piece of property right on the water next to the Seven Mile Bridge in Marathon.

With our plans of making a "run" for it from St. Louis to Rapid City, we thought this would be a good opportunity to try some of these alternatives. We are also members of two clubs that we have been hoping to take better advantage of as we head west. One club called Harvest Hosts allows you to boondock at designated wineries, farms, or orchards across the United States and Canada. The other is Passport America which typically offers 50% discount at participating campgrounds.  We have not yet used Harvest Hosts, and we have found that there are many restrictions on the use of the Passport America discount--especially if you are in high season somewhere. While we were in Red Bay, Alabama for almost three weeks, we sketched out a loose itinerary for this leg of our travels (we seldom make reservations ahead of time as that limits our spontaneity).  Our travel philosophy has been to plan days of four to six hours of driving and get to our destination by late afternoon. This arrival time often precludes the idea of pulling into a Walmart or truck stop to drycamp as it would be too much time to hang out there.  The wineries, however, would be good as many close by 5 or 6 and you want time to do some wine tasting after you arrive--part of the reason they are offering free parking as hosts.

Our plan for the St. Louis to Kansas City, Mo. run was to stay at a Passport America campground, Basswood RV Resort in KC Platte City, as the drive was only four hours. I found one that accepted the PA card Sun-Thurs only, reducing the cost from $38 to $19.  The place was also only about two miles off I-29, our route north.  It turned out to be a fantastic countryside RV resort with beautiful fishing lakes, a large pool, amazing play structures, and roomy campsites--way more than we needed for an overnight stop but the convenience of a pull through here for less than $20 was a good deal.

Basswood RV Resort--internet photo as it was rainy and dark when we arrived

There were major thunderstorms and a tornado warning in the Kansas City area when we arrived. I checked the doppler radar on the WeatherBug App on my phone. It shows a little peg man in your exact location so it is helpful in judging the severity and longevity of the storm as it approaches. What I noticed were several green "blobs" with red centers clustered around the area. I think this is how supercells develop as they merge together often generating tornadic activity. They were also predicting hail up to 2" and flooding in certain zones, including some highways. Great. We were at least thankful to be off the road in a site with no large trees hanging overhead.  I made fresh pierogies (which were the best I ever had) and a big salad from the goodies we bought at the Soulard Farmer's Market in St. Louis. (Mike and BJ, sorry you couldn't join us.) As luck would have it, our peg man stayed on the periphery of most of the storms so we only had to endure about an hour of impressive thunder and lightening. The dogs crawled under the table during most of this time and, for a moment, I thought Vic would join them too. Each time the thunder cracked, his eyes widened as a wave of nervous tension crossed his face. He is such a West Coast boy. My childhood in the mid-West gave me a passion for thunderstorms; I often lamented about how much I missed them in Montana and Oregon. Keep in mind, I wasn't living full time in a motorhome then. Storms take on a different edge when you are in a 36' x12' x8.5' fiberglass box. That is why we have made an effort to follow H for happy on the weather map. So far, we have had fewer than seven rainy days in the past eight and a half months.  That seems pretty amazing to me, but, into each life a little rain must fall, no?  I never actually minded the rain in Oregon but that may have been because it made life in a classroom for twenty-seven years more manageable. Anyway, we had a peaceful night sleep and took off for the next leg to Sioux Falls at the leisurely time of almost 10 a.m.

Interesting rest area icons in this part of the country

Not much to see on the stretch of I-29 between Kansas City and Sioux Falls.  The predominant element we had to battle was wind, not unusual for these parts. One crosswind gust caused Vic to veer into the left lane--a bit of a wake up call to slow down and hug the shoulder.  I looked up tips for driving in crosswinds and one interesting one was to fill up on gas and freshwater to add weight. We were down to 1/4 tank anyway, so we heeded this advice and stopped at the next diesel station.  I also read a tip that said if the gusts exceed 50 mph, it would be a good idea to pull over and watch a movie.  I like this thinking.

While going down the road, I tried to call the Wilde Prairie Winery where we had planned to spend the night, but only reached voicemail.  I looked on the internet to check their hours and it said Fri-Sun, so I started to doubt we would be able to take advantage of this plan. There were two Passport America campgrounds in the area and one, Tower Campground, was closer to the interstate then the other, so I called them for a site as a back-up in case we did not hear back from the winery. It was nearly 5 p.m. when we reached Sioux Falls, and we had not yet heard from the winery so we pulled in to Tower Campground, about a half mile from the interstate. We discovered this was the last week they were taking PA cards, as summer is their busy season.  We got a pull-through again for the price of $19; however, this campground would rate about a 4/5 compared to the 9/10 one we just left. It was clearly an old, tired place in a noisy location next to a busy street. The owners were very friendly though and seemed to be aware they had their work cut out in trying to update the place.  The sad part is just when we got hooked up and settled, my phone rang; the winery was calling to tell us to come on over.  It turned out the owners have day jobs and did not get home to respond to inquiries until after 5 p.m. Seems like they need a better system if they want to get RV business during the week. (The last time I tried it was a Sunday and the winery was required to lock its gates because of Alabama liquor laws.) Oh well.  We will keep trying to use this membership.

The weather turned cold (low 40s) overnight in Sioux Falls. It's been a long time since we have had a jeans and sweatshirt day but it looked like this might be one.  We took off by 9 a.m. for the straight shot across South Dakota on I-90 to Rapid City, about 350 miles. One entertaining aspect of this drive is the pervasive presence of colorful billboards erected across the state. The most famous, of course, are the Wall Drug billboards.  Vic has never been to South Dakota before so I convinced him we would need to stop in Wall, S.D. to check out this historic roadside attraction.  

The tribal presence gives rise to an abundance of casinos

The wind kicked up again but luckily the shoulders were better and the traffic was sparse. I had hoped to do my first rest area to rest area driving stint but the wind and the fact that the rest areas were 85 miles apart squelched this desire. Vic and I questioned how folks in the High Plains grow accustomed to the wind. Many pioneers didn't as we have both read about the women, in particular, covering their ears and going crazy from the constant howling of the wind. The constant presence of the wind led us to wonder why there are so few trees in the land dominated by prairie grass. A quick check on the internet taught us that the lack of trees is a combination effect of flooding, wildfire, agriculture, and harsh winters.

An old homestead in the middle of nowhere on I-90

The stop at Wall Drugs provided a good opportunity to stretch and take a look at a unique slice of Americana.  Vic was a little appalled at how commercial it was with thousands of tourist trinkets. He did, however, enjoy a blackberry homemade ice cream milkshake at the drugstore's soda fountain counter. I entertained myself by looking at the vast array of Western wear (I love cowboys) and made the mistake of finding the boot section.  I have not had a chance to wear the cowboy boots I packed in the motorhome, otherwise I would have been really tempted by some of these beauties.

$1000 Tony Llama boots

My obsession boots

These would also do. . .

Okay, here are a few more fun shots.

We are about to arrive in our new home, Box Elder, South Dakota, where we will stay at America's Mailbox campground for a few days while visiting the Badlands, Mt. Rushmore, Crazy Horse Monument, Deadwood (home of one of Vic's favorite HBO series), and. . . the local DMV. It feels to good to be on Mountain Time.