September 29, 2002

Where does the time go? When we were kids the summers were endless, now they just whiz by at an accelerating rate.

Ken has really been enjoying his off road rock crawling Suzuki. He is already planning on installing a new engine so it will have more horsepower to pull him up and over incredible rocks.

This past July we traveled in our Chevy truck (nickname: Big Bear) to Aspen where we unloaded and parked the Suzuki, and then we traveled to Crested Butte in the Bear. We spent the night there and early next morning drove up to Schofield Pass to trek from Crested Butte to Aspen (Yup! Up and over the West Maroon Wilderness)! We could not drive to the trailhead since an avalanche of snow prevented travel by truck. So we parked the truck and hiked a couple extra miles to the trailhead. We took West Maroon Pass and marveled at the hillside of Fireweed (a purple to pink color). There were literally acres of flowers in bloom. The hike downhill to Aspen was not as beautiful and colorful as the Crested Butte side which is probably why CB claims to be the “Wildflower Capital of Colorado”. The Maroon Bell Mountains are quite spectacular and the lake on the Aspen side with the Maroon Bells for a background is quite impressive. However, because of the drought, the lake was quite low, beautiful, but below normal.

We caught one of the Park busses to the parking lot where the “Zuki” was parked and drove down to Aspen. We spent the night in Aspen and the next morning hopped into the Suzuki to visit the “Ghost Town of Ashland”. This has been kept up very well and was a tourist destination, not your typical ghost town. The money in Aspen provides very well for its upkeep.

We returned to CB via some rough 4wd roads through Marble and into the little town of Crystal where the photogenic Crystal mill and mine is located. Ken captured the scenery in some photos and then we drove the Lead King Basin loop. This is a high altitude 4wd road. We did come across two standard vehicles (probably rental cars) that had to negotiate many places very, very carefully. One error would have cost a bundle of bucks to have a tow truck rescue them.

After we finished this loop we climbed Schofield Pass to a hair-raising piece of road called the Devil’s Punch Bowl. At the start of this awesome place there were four Jeeps parked and the occupants were picnicking. After conversing with them Ken found out they did not feel comfortable traveling up the steep rock strewn single lane mountain pass. They scouted it and found a boulder 10 ft. high and 6 ft. wide taking up most of the road. The Suzuki is smaller in width so it can negotiate smaller spaces than a jeep. Ken put it in gear and motored on up. Good thing I was on the inside and not on the cliff edge that must have been crumbling under our tires. After we passed this point, Ken advised me that a few years ago an entire family in their vehicle tumbled almost 1000 feet to their death at this spot. We drove on and came to a beautiful waterfall where we pulled out our sandwiches and had lunch and enjoyed the peaceful scene and the sound of the water.

Ken had a plan that if we could not get the “Zuki” over the avalanche that had stopped our Chevy 4wd truck on Schofield Pass we would take a longer but easier alternate route. If we were to slide off the tilted avalanche it was cause a 200 foot rollover into a streambed. On the third try, Ken and Zuki made it without a slip and we continued on to the truck and Crested Butte.

Crested Butte is a small town with brightly colored Victorian buildings and several wonderful restaurants. You can feel a sense of pride from the residents. They work on bringing about several events throughout the year. It’s a really neat place to visit. Of course, in snow season, we have heard that snow can accumulate to the second story window. One owner of a B&B said they would let their dog out the second story window when it wanted to go outside. Now that is a winter of snow.

One of the outings of the day was a drive up to 12,500-foot Pearl Pass. Ken drove to Pearl Pass and on the way dropped me off in the wilderness at an amazingly beautiful area with a little brook and wonderful clouds so I could paint. We moved the cooler out to literally the middle of wilderness and there I sat by myself not seeing anyone for more than 1 ½ hours and checking every so often for bears. He took a photo from quite a distance of where I was painting and in the distance I can be seen as a little speck of pink.

We drove back to the valley and Ken let me set up again to paint the incredible scene of mountains and old barn.

The next day we headed off to Leadville, the highest elevation town of its size in the United States. If you have not visited Leadville, it is well worth it. It was quite a town during the mining era and had a population of thousands. We caught a performance of “Baby Doe” Tabor. The actress has performed this one-woman play for years. She wrote the play for her thesis in college and is now in her sixties, so she has been performing this for some time. She draws people from the audience into the play and got to Ken and he became Horace Tabor owner of the famous “Matchless Mine”. At one point in the play she played the part of Tabor’s first wife who confronted Baby Doe (who turned out to be me) and played the part of wife pitted against the husband’s mistress. It was fun to be involved a bit in this theatrical performance.

Next day we were driving up a dirt road to view some abandoned mines when we came across a fellow in a broken down Volvo that have over 400,000 miles on it. He was Dan Devine, and had a golden retriever with him. Ken helped him repair his car and Dan told us about this shaggy recluse “Jamie” who lived in one of the old mine shacks and has not bathed in years. Earlier that day we had seen Jamie walking along the road and both of us turned around to get a better look at this apparition with his ragged long gray beard and wild gray hair in a tattered ski parka (and it was summer). Dan told us the story of befriending Jamie and giving him rides to his shack in the old mining area. One day Jamie hauled off and drove his fist into Dan’s golden retriever. Dan stopped the car and asked, “What was that for?” Jamie replied “no dog licks me in the face”. Dan said, “Get out of the car.” and has not given Jamie a ride since. By the way, Jamie receives monthly checks from some trust fund and is not destitute. He just chooses to live this way.

Dan advised us where to see many old abandoned mines and pointed us to two locations of Molly Brown’s early homes in the mines high in the mountains. We were able to take several photos and they will be the subjects of a series of mine paintings.

If you ever want a great filet mignon dinner, Leadville has a restaurant which offers only one menu item: prime rib one night and the filet mignon the next night. We visited this restaurant where I got a 9 oz filet; Ken got the 12 oz. We had wine and beer all for a total of $29. It was good food. You can’t beat that.

Leadville also has a sense of pride in their town. I’m sure we will return next year because I would like to hike up nearby Mt. Elbert, the highest 14’er in Colorado.

This year Ken and I hiked up two 14’ers: Mt. Democrat a few miles from Breckenridge and Mt. Sneffels in Ouray. (More about Sneffels later.) These are both 14er’s (over 14,000 ft. mountains). Ken has done a few others that are more technically challenging.

In July I took part in Rhythm on the River, an annual Longmont event. This is quite a family event with foot races, entertainment, balloon rides, crafts for kids, and an Art tent (which is what I participated in). We had 11 artists in this tent displaying our work. I also painted during the day and it was of interest to people who walked through the tent. One mother and daughter stopped and we were talking about the pastel painting technique when the little girl took her finger and dragged it across my picture. I gasped “no, no”, mother rebuked the kid and quickly disappeared. My friend across the way said you should have said, “Now you have bought it, you can do whatever you wish with it.” But I wasn’t that quick. I was just too aghast at what happened. I did sell a painting and felt pretty good about that.

Around mid August we traveled to Alamosa, Colorado, to visit the Great Sand Dunes Monument. We have been to the Cape and have seen and walked on the sand dunes, but the Dunes at the Monument are 800 ft. high and miles long. They are pure sand, no rocks, very little vegetation and continue a couple of hundred feet below the surface of the earth. Morning light and late afternoon light cast marvelous shadows and a lighting display that is spectacular.

Ken wanted to do a technical drive up Blanca Peak near Alamosa – nationally known as the hardest 4wd road in Colorado. There were times I had to get out of the car because it was too scary for me to stay in the vehicle. There were three areas on this route named: JAWS 1, JAWS 2, and JAWS 3. Ken got the Zuki over Jaws 1 and 2. After a couple of tries at Jaws 3, Ken abandoned the effort and used an easier alternate route. We then continued up to Lake Como. We were there at the perfect moment when no one else was around. We had the lake to ourselves. Mount Blanca is also a 14er. However, it is so technically difficult, I don’t think I want to ever do it. It is all jumbled rock, scree, steep and extremely challenging. We saw hikers coming down with helmets and special equipment aiding in their descent.

The next day we took the Suzuki into the Great Sand Dunes road to Medano Pass. This too is a 4 wheel drive road but much, much easier. We saw only one other vehicle along this road and as we approached each other stopped to talk. Ken warned the fellow of a recently fallen tree and how to get around it. We then continued to Medano Pass. Once again, Ken dropped me off at a grove of aspen to paint and continued to explore with the Suzuki. This time there was no one who drove by. Once again, I kept checking for animals that might want to visit me (and the food chest I was sitting on). After Ken’s return, we packed up and drove to a trailhead to hike to Medano Lake. We saw bear scat along the way and so I broke out in song to let the bears know we were coming. This trail was 4 miles long and very steep for about 1-½ miles. Once again we had the lake and trail to ourselves. I like this feeling. It’s as if you were walking in areas for the first time as explorers.

After our adventures in the Sand Dunes area, we loaded the Suzuki on its trailer and headed for Ouray high in the San Juans. Here the seemingly endless old mining roads in the high and rugged mountains are a Mecca for 4 wheeling. Ken enjoyed some of the most difficult roads with the “Zuki”. Of course, I rode passenger and suffered more from pounding then from hiking. (Definitely shaken, not stirred.) The views from these old mining roads, high above timberline, are awesome.

I had a chance to paint in a panoramic setting in Yankee Boy Basin. This one particular hillside was lime green, purple, orange, gold and yellow. What coloring!

While in Ouray we decided to hike another 14er and tackled Mt. Sneffels. You begin on a lovely hiking path and turn a corner and see that the trail goes straight up ½ mile to a saddle joining two peaks. The climb to this saddle was all jumbled loose rock. No one approached this quickly. It was slow, difficult going. We rested on the saddle and took in the incredible view of cathedral-like spires of rock (some looked like organ pipes). After a bit we looked around to try and figure out where the trail went. Soon we saw a lone hiker appear high in a steep and rocky gully. That was the hint we needed and we proceeded up this boulder filled gully. This was even steeper than what we had just climbed up.

We exited the gully through a difficult smooth V shaped notch onto a knife-edge ridge at about 14,000 ft. The remainder was a few hundred ft. of rock scramble to the summit with definite attention getting exposure all the way. Views were spectacular. The sky was cloudless, blue and vision unlimited. Mountain range beyond mountain range was visible. The huge green basin below us glittered with emerald green lakes.

We had lunch at the summit and joked about if anything happened to me Ken would collect my Social Security. We then started the descent. This proved more difficult than the climb. By this time there were many other climbers going both up and down – all moving incredibly slow, like a slow motion parade.

Half way down the difficult gully we heard a rock noise above us. We looked up and saw and heard people yelling “ROCK”. We saw huge boulders the size of steamer trunks bounding through the air gathering speed toward us. Ken yelled at me to go to the sidewall of the gully - NOW. This was just 30 feet away over huge boulders. All the while we struggled towards the wall Ken was yelling “Move, move, further, faster, keep going”. We got to the wall and the flying boulders smote the boulder where we had been standing just seconds ago and continued hurtled downward through the air. There were perhaps 20 hikers below us. Miraculously, no one was injured. All were shaken. My knees were weak and wobbly. Some women were crying.

We continued slowly down without further excitement. At the base of the steepest part we met a couple (husband and wife). The woman was quite ill and her husband was helping her descend. I asked, “Are you alright”? Her husband, named Rock, said “No, my wife is very ill and nauseous”. I said we have our vehicle parked at the trailhead. We have coke in the cooler and that should help settle her stomach. Both Ken and I hurriedly finished our descent and Ken hiked back up to where Mary was, but she couldn’t drink the coke.

While we were hurrying down the trail a dog with another party of hikers was following close to me and I kept telling him I would get him water. At the Suzuki I detached the bungee cords from the cooler and put the cooler down so the dog could drink the ice water. I didn’t think he would ever stop drinking. I told his owner. Owner said, but I gave him a bottle of water. He probably offered some cupped in his hands. It surely wasn’t enough.

When Mary, the ill person, reached our car we put her in the passenger seat while her husband and I sat on the cooler in the back. Riding in the open air we held onto the roll bars for dear life. Descending over rocks and around hairpin turns we drove Mary and Rock back to their car.

Longmont Studio Tours took place September 21 and 22. We had 275 people visit my home studio I shared with a few other artists and I sold two paintings. One visitor, a woman who owns a gallery in Arvada (Denver), wants my painting of an adobe home with an electric blue door that I had just finished. Ken and I were about to leave for the Grand Canyon and she was going to Taos, so I must call her this coming week. Another woman who owns a shop on Main Street, Longmont, asked if I would like to be a featured artist at her establishment. Of course I said yes. Yahoo! What a weekend!

Monday, September 23^rd we traveled to the Grand Canyon where my son Scott is a Park Ranger. We celebrated my birthday on Tuesday with a visit to Shoshone Point where we had the entire place to ourselves followed by a wonder dinner at the classic El Tovar hotel.

Wednesday the three of us hiked down into the Canyon to the Colorado River. It’s 4,500 ft. down and then 4500 ft. back up, all in one day. We needed 12 hours to hike the 18 miles. The final ¼ mile to the rim took everything I had (and a flashlight to light the way). The temperature in the canyon was over 90 degrees. We must have consumed 6 – 7 quarts of water. At the bottom of the canyon, in the inner gorge, you are traveling thru time. The rocks are one and a half billion years old. For a while you hike through beautiful beach sand next to the muddy, swirling Colorado River.

On the way into the canyon on the Kaibab Trail we met two women in their 30’s. One had braces on both knees and ankles. I asked her what happened. She looked at her friend and smiled and said ‘I have MS and my knees buckle at times.’ She and her friend are physical therapists and she said she always advises her clients that they can overcome their disabilities. I told her she was very admirable.

Our attention then shifted to her friend who was carrying a yellow box containing a satellite telephone. The two were hiking down the canyon to meet friends at the river and go rafting. The satellite phone was to call her mother who was taking care of her four month old infant. She had to check in on her baby. These are modern times.

The next day we met the radio dispatcher for the Park Rangers. Scott commented to her that yesterday’s epic hike into the canyon was something his mother wanted for her 65^th birthday and said he was glad she only turned 65 once. I’m glad we did it, the three of us. It was wonderful and memorable. You can really get the feeling for how immense the canyon is. It is truly one of the “Wonders of the World”. The Grand Canyon is immense, awesome, inspiring, beautiful. It’s hard to take it all in.

Thursday, Scott took us on 50 miles of dirt road (quite rough and rocky) through the Havasupi Reservation and back into the Park at Havasupi Point. Needless to say, not many tourists visit this area. While I was setting up to paint I noticed Scott and Ken were busy changing a flat tire on Scott’s Jeep. The spare tire was one of those tiny, temporary ones and was under inflated. When we packed up and left it went flat on the first rough spot. We were 50 miles from pavement! Scott decided to sacrifice the spare tire.

We began the long trek back on the flat tire. Every few miles along the rocky road we would stop to inspect the tire. It soon began to disintegrate. Wires from the tire wrapped around the axle and brakes and had to be cut away. Soon we were on the metal rim alone. We were about 10 miles from the paved road and civilization when the rim broke in half. Luckily we were now within cell phone range of Park headquarters. Scott called the Park Ranger dispatcher and requested a tow truck. One and one half hours later and in total darkness the truck arrived. It was a long, slow ride with four of us packed like sardines in the front seat of the tow truck. We arrived at Scott’s home about 10:30 p.m. tired, frazzled and hungry. I searched Scott’s refrigerator; there wasn’t much there. I pulled out hot dogs and bread and microwaved them. Our ‘feast’ concluded with frozen yogurt and wine (and Advil!) and we fell into bed. This was really an adventure and quite a birthday celebration.

After that day it seems fitting to end like Looney Tunes – “That’s All, That’s All for Now Folks”.

Love, Diane and Ken