The Amble of the Arkansas

June 11- 12, 2022

There is a sadness about Pueblo.  A great deal of money has been spent by the city to attract activity in the downtown area, to cultivate the Arkansas River as part of that attraction (a riverwalk like San Antonio), and to inspire some degree of civic pride with a significant investment in public art celebrating all elements of the west.  But it has somehow fallen short – as evidenced to my eye by the amount of litter and decay in other places around Pueblo. 

Less trussed-up locations that access the river should have been beautiful.  They were and they weren’t.  Water and trees – yes; overflowing trash bins, litter on the shoreline, no. It’s bad enough that people don’t care about their environment – but the city does not appear to care either (though it could be an issue of manpower).  As thrilled as I was to be at a gateway to the Rockies, I was glad to quit the heat and glumness of this city. 

This is what happens when I study paper maps: I start picking all the designated “scenic” routes.  And here’s what happens when Tom goes on-line to study such routes: he finds out they are made of dirt (because Google took a picture).

But before we got to that point, we meandered.  Taking SR 96 west, we came across the enormous concrete structure of the Arkansas River Dam, which creates Lake Pueblo behind it – an artificial structure that actually has water (unlike the troubled Lakes Mead and Powell). Following our inspection, we picked up SR 67 as the scenic route to Manitou Springs.  But we decided to cruise through Canon City (pronounced “canyon”), and oh, by the way, why not go to Royal Gorge and check out that bridge? 

It is the highest suspension bridge in the US, towering almost 1000’ above – wait for it – the Arkansas River.  However, CO charges $32 per person for the privilege of walking across it.  So, we looked at it from afar, and I decided that the Black Canyon at Gunnison was just as deep, more interesting (because it is narrower) and more beautiful for not having a bridge.  They could have designed a more mellifluous one.

By this time, it was back to 95 degrees, and we decided to catch a quick lunch at the Happy Endings Caboose Café, which has exactly two inside tables.  And it was very good.

Back on SR 24 to catch up to SR 67 again, we passed through Florrisant, and its “correctional campus”, including a federal penitentiary that looked like a college dorm cluster.  

Turning north up SR 67, we were warned “rough road ahead”.  Our Nissan is two-wheel drive.  I feared a washboard surface would send us back to an easier, softer, less scenic way.  But Tom and the car proved intrepid, and our adventure up 22 miles of dirt road began. 

It was narrow and gorgeous. Red rock abounded.  The road, at times only wide enough for one vehicle, and with minimum “washboard”, ran beside a river (probably the Arkansas, for heaven’s sake), creating the perfect hideaway/ getaway for folks perhaps interested in less than legal pursuits.  The red rock formations slowly gave way to alpine as we climbed in altitude and trees reappeared – particularly Aspen, wearing a fluorescent spring green.  We averaged about 18 mph, but eventually popped out at Victor, CO, an active gold mining town, sitting close to 10,000’ and a frosty (but welcome) 68 degrees.

At nearby Cripple Creek, site of the 1859 gold rush, and now reborn as a casino town (much like Central City), we were greeted with the sight of three enormous building cranes lifting into place the pieces of an enormous parking deck and probably enormous accompanying casino.  The older portions of the town still wear their western heritage, but it was just one casino after another.  Not my idea of fun.

So down the mountain we went, picking up sun and temperature.  As we came through Woodland Park, we could see Pikes Peak and its range – all tall enough to tower above the tree line and thus, more forbidding — but so noble and inspiring.

Manitou Springs, famous for its naturally effervescent mineral springs, at last welcomed us weary travelers.  Gaining time going west is a wonderful thing … and exhausting when combined with heat and altitude.  After a simple supper in our room, we decided to walk Red Rock Park, which is built around the same formations that eventually form “Garden of the Gods” in Colorado Springs (which you can see from a vantage point).  The late light lit the rock like torches — but there is no stroll here – you climb and scramble — and I learned a quick lesson: 1) I am not thirty anymore; and 2) I should never hike after supper at altitude.  Walking trail – yes.  Hike – no.