2023 – Early September – Cinnamon Pass; Handies Peak; Durango, CO

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Molas Pass

Our 6 AM alarm wakes us, we are ready.  Opening the garage door, heat and humidity slaps our faces, yet another reminder of why we are leaving.  We will be gone only two weeks but will enjoy every minute.  As of September 6th, we have enjoyed/endured 62 days, 29 of them consecutive, 100°+ temperatures.

After breakfast we pack our essentials; clothing, laptops, and camera gear.  Food goes in last.  We stuck with our regular plan of cooking everything at home, only having to thaw, then heat our meals each evening.  Unfortunately, our camper doesn’t have a freezer big enough for all our meals, so some of our prepared meals stay home.  Don’t worry we won’t starve.

The landscape has greatly changed since our last adventure.  What were wildflower-lined roads, are now roads lined with brown skeletons of wildflowers.  Even the weeds seem to be having a hard time with the heat and drought, they are the only things that are green, although not the usual, healthy green.  Heading towards Lubbock the ground changes to the color of terra cotta, then back to nondescript brown.  It’s only 94° in Lubbock as we pull in the hotel parking lot.  We don’t have air conditioning in the camper, so we are staying in a hotel this evening.  The room air conditioner feels like it is blowing ice cubes, I find the thermostat set at 65°.

The next morning, we have breakfast at a local restaurant before heading to our next destination, Raton, NM.  North of Lubbock the land becomes flat as a table.  Pawing north of Amarillo, small hills appear, while valleys deepen.  Green plants sprout, oil jacks appear, farms and ranches cover the land.  Fields of corn and sorghum line the road, all watered by center pivoting irrigation systems.  These are the ones that form green crop circles as seen from the sky.  All the miles we drive in Texas, I never get the feeling we are far from some type of development, a town, farm or ranch, oil drilling or pumping.  Crossing the border into New Mexico the land seems to open up.  We see vast open spaces with only a home or two visible at any one time.  Fields are open with cattle feeding or lying in the shade of a lonesome tree.  The tops of dormant volcanoes poke out of the rolling hills and mesas.  We have been climbing since we left home.  Arriving at Sugarite Canyon State Park, just outside of Raton, we are at just over 7,000’ elevation.

Sugarite Canyon State Park

Sugarite Canyon State Park

At the visitor center, we meet Cheryl, one of the park volunteers.  Her enthusiasm about the park shows.  She answers all our questions regarding camping, hiking and general information about the park.  She cautions us about black bears roaming the park.  They are foraging for acorns dropped by Gamble oaks, primarily by the lakes along the bottom of the canyon.  She suggests the Little Horse Mesa Trail for a commanding view of the park and canyon leading out of the park.  She shares her mantra; “No Bears, No Snakes”.  She uses on all her hikes and has never run into a bear or a snake, we practice a few times making sure we got it down before heading to our campsite.  Cheryl takes one last look outside the visitor center for any roaming black bears but sees none.  We thank her for her help, and her mantra.  Once we get in the parking lot, I spot a medium size black bear crossing the park road not more than 200’ from us.  It is long gone into the dense brush by the time we drive past the spot I saw it crossing the road.  We continue on to our campsite a few miles up the road.  We drive slowly, hoping to see another bear, but none appear.

Once the camper is set up, we put on our hiking gear, with cameras, then head out to Little Horse Mesa.  The temperature is a welcomed 84°.  The final climb is a bit steep, but the views are worth the climb.  We see the two campgrounds and Alice Lake, where the bears are doing their main foraging.  We repeat the mantra every minute or so, it works, we do not see any bears or snakes.  After a spaghetti dinner we retire for the night.  I put on my fleece jacket to shoot a few photos of the Milky Way before going to bed.  We fall asleep to a chorus of crickets, chirping in unison, and an occasional coyote howling in the distance.  We are toasty warm under our fleece blanket and lightweight sleeping bag.  A great first night in the camper.

We wake to bright blue skies and comfortable temperatures.  We start the day with breakfast at the campsite picnic table, enjoying the birds singing all around us.  We stop at the visitor center looking for a post card to remember the park.  Wandering towards Alice Lake we hope to see a bear or two before we leave but are unsuccessful.  We are ready to head to our next destination, Lake City, CO.  From Raton we take I-25 north, through Raton Pass getting off the interstate at Walsenburg, CO.  We have the front range of mountains to the west, to the east are the Eastern Plains, running all the way to Kansas and beyond.

Leaving the interstate behind, we head west through the mountains.  It is very scenic, it’s too early for fall color but we were not anticipating fall color when we planned our trip.  Once through the front range we drop into the San Luis Valley.  Off in the distance to the north, we see the beige sand of the Great Sand Dunes NP.  Continuing west, we pass through multiple small towns before making a turn to the north at South Fork, CO.  Here we follow the Rio Grande Valley to Lake City.  This is the same Rio Grande that flows through Albuquerque, NM.  It doesn’t look like the same river, it’s clear, not silt filled.  The valley is very scenic, it gets added to our list to revisit the next time we come this way.

Cinnamon Pass

Arriving at Lake City we are ready to gather tourist information for our drive on the Cinnamon Pass route, part of the Alpine Loop.  Our goal is to hike Handies Peak, one of Colorado’s 14ers, a 14,000’+ mountain.  This will be our first.  In order to get to Handies Peak we have to take Cinnamon Pass route for 20+ miles to American Basin which leads us to one of the trailheads for Handies Peak. Arriving at the visitor center at 3:05 we find that that they closed at 3:00.  The place is dark, no one to be seen.  I grab whatever books are setting outside, searching them for information to get us closer to Handies Peak.  Not finding much information we go to plan 'B'.  We stop at one of the national forest campgrounds along the way, to pick the brain of the campground host.  He strongly suggests we go all the way to American Basin then start our Handies Peak hike early, before sunrise, so we can be on our way back down before afternoon storms build up. Thanks goes to my partner, Nicida, for her video of our drive along parts of the Cinnamon Pass route and our entrance into the American Basin.  Pay particular attention to the truck rocking as I negotiate the 'road'.

American Basin

American Basin is 20 miles away, and it will take over two hours to get there.  There is dispersed camping along the American Basin Road, with the Handies Peak trailhead at the end of the road.  We eagerly listen, following his instructions to the letter.

A brief view of the Cinnamon Pass route

Part of the Cinnamon Pass route is a ‘shelf road.’  A shelf road is a notch cut into the side of the mountain slope, the width of the road.  We are up close and personal with a mountain wall on one side, and open space on the other, really open, as in, the next time you touch ground you may be several hundred feet below the shelf road.  I’m glad we didn’t try this in the dark.  Dodging boulders and large deep potholes, many inches deep and up to tens of feet long, we still rock from side to side.  Tire placement is critical, so we do not drag the bottom of the truck on the aforementioned boulders.  Our drive is a slow dance, switching partners – boulders, potholes and a few flat patches.  Unfortunately, I am busy driving, so I don't have any photos of this part of our adventure.  This is the part of the road where two-wheel drive vehicles can go, we don’t know how they get here, but we see a few.  We stop at Grizzly Gulch to stretch our legs and use the restrooms.  Another four miles of picking our way along the road we arrive at the American Basin turnoff.

Entrance to American Basin

The road becomes even rougher, a sign cautions us ‘Only 4 WD vehicles beyond this point.’  We continue another half mile selecting a semi level campsite.

American Basin campsite

Opening the camper door, we face a disaster.  Camera bags, laptop bags, clothing, and other assorted stuff is strewn on the floor.  In short, anything not tied down enjoyed an exciting ride, ending up on the floor.  The most important item held, the refrigerator door.  We did not find any food on the floor other than the odd piece of fruit we have stored in a net hammock hanging from a cabinet.  We sort through the stuff, noting that next time we will put loose items on the floor before we start.  Leveling the camper as best we can we find we are still several degrees from level.  Jars we place on the counter start sliding away, trying to escape our grasp.  We adjust our sleeping orientation, so our heads are not downhill from our bodies.  By the time we get everything sorted out the sun is disappearing behind the mountains, throwing us in shadow until tomorrow.  The air cools instantly.  It is cool to start with, we are at 11,500’, which is good, this allows us to acclimate to the elevation before hiking to the peak at 14,048’.  Fleece jackets go on, protecting us from the cool breeze flowing down the mountainside.  We take a short walk towards the trailhead breathing heavier at this elevation.  We are close to the tree line, many are below us, but very few above.  Back at the camper, we prepare for our hike, three miles one way with a 2,500’ elevation gain.  We pack rain jackets for wind and/or rain, winter hats, sun hats, warm gloves, cameras, snacks and water.  In addition, we are wearing midweight coats, hiking boots, and base layers – for warmth.  We expect it to take us about three hours each way.  Sorted, and packed we set our alarm for 4 AM for a 6 AM start at the trailhead.  We need all our blankets tonight; we are expecting lows in the 40’s.

Hiking Handies Peak

Barely into our hike

We wake at 4.  I look out the back door, it is dark.  The sun doesn’t rise until almost 6 and the partial moon, already behind the surrounding mountains doesn’t add any light.  The early morning temperature is also the coolest I have felt since last winter.  We have hot oatmeal for breakfast, organize our gear and have another look at the sky, it is equally dark.  I cannot discern the sky from the mountain ridgeline.  I can guess, there are stars above a line in the sky and none below, but I cannot see the mountains.  We wait another 15 minutes, finally I see the color in the sky just enough to make out the ridgeline.  With that, we are off on our trek to Handies Peak, our first 14er.  Another group of hikers are already ahead of us, hiking quickly.  By the time we reach the trailhead, at 6:15, they are already several hundred feet ahead of us.  All we see are the light of their headlamps sweeping the trail.  We are moving slower, already breathing a bit harder than normal.  Several people we had met over the past couple days recommended to take it slow.  It takes us a while to get into a comfortable cadence as we continue uphill.  This is the first time we are using our trekking poles.  We stop to adjust them a few times, but they prove useful.  The mountain bottom is a slow steady climb, we cross talus fields, grass meadows and small brooks with gurgling water flowing around the rocks we use to traverse them.  Still dark, we hear chirps of animals down among the rocks making up the talus field, they are either pikas or marmots.  They can see us, but we can’t see them.  

Getting closer

The sky starts to brighten, illuminating smaller mountains with leftover patches of snow.  Passing 12,500’ we still cannot see our goal.  Our poles are working overtime assisting us with our balance as we step over the never-ending boulders, rocks and gravel making up the trail.  As we ascend, the trail gets steeper.  We are in the shadow of the mountain, looking west the mountains are bathed in bright sunlight.  Two hours into our hike we surmise that we are looking at the peak of Handies Peak. Nicida's video show the last stretch of our hike. 

                                      The final approach to Handies Peak

We see several hikers milling around a spot, what looks to be the peak, not hiking further.  In fact, a few are returning.  We have a long way to go, but we have seen our goal.  Arriving the saddle between two peaks we emerge into the sun.  It is blinding, but we don’t feel any warmth from it.  We are over 13,400’, still wearing our winter coats with hats and gloves.  From here the trail gets very steep.

Handies Peak in sight

Those returning, cheer us on, only a short distance to go.  They also warn us about how slippery it is to come down, the gravel is loose and one’s footing can easily go out from under you.  This part of the trail has many switchbacks, an indicator to me that this will be steep.  I keep my head down concentrating on my steps.  We stop often to catch our breath, looking around we see spectacular views of the surrounding mountains, providing incentive to press on for a view from the top. 

                                            View from Handies Peak

After slightly more than three hours we arrive at Handies Peak.  The 360° view is amazing.  We are surrounded by mountains, being on the highest, we look down on everything.  The perspective is different.  We see further down each of the mountains, not just their peaks.  This allows us to see layers of mountains, how they are in relation to each other.  Close ones are more defined, far ones less defined due to a light haze.  There are many shades of brown, reds, grays and copper.  Before reaching the peak all we would see is the peaks blending together. Like seeing only people’s heads straining to look between each other to see a performer at a concert.

View from the top

We stay for 45 minutes, celebrating our accomplishment, shooting lots of photos, and refilling our bodies for the return trip with a few snacks.  The sky is mostly clear but there are a few clouds starting to build on the horizon.  We start taking off our heavy coats, we feel the warmth of the sun beating on us at 14,000’.  Our descent starts at 10 AM.  When we talked with others about our planned hike, we were reminded several times to be on our way back down before noon.  Storms build up quick in the Rockies, and as long as we are above the tree line, we are the tallest things on the mountain, a target for lightning.  The tree line ended where we joined up at the trailhead, 2,500’ below us.  Our trekking poles arrest our descent, keeping us from slipping on the loose gravel.

Sloan Lake, just below the peak

Marmot

Normally our return hikes, especially downhill, go quicker than the uphill portion, not this time.  Three hours later we arrive at the camper.  Along the way we take off the gloves, and hats and are down to our basic pants and shirts.  We identify the chirping we heard earlier this morning, marmots.  Some are quite brave, perching on nearby rocks watching us, watching and photographing them.  Pikas, much smaller than marmots, are harder to spot.  We catch them out of the corner of our eye as they scurry back and forth looking for food.  Some seem oblivious to our presence.

Cinnamon Pass

Once back at the camper we relax.  Hiking boots are the first things to come off.  We relive our hike, happy to have hiked our first 14er, and happier to have accomplished it.  We are over three hours from Silverton, the next town, so we make lunch.  Lunch completed, we start our drive, dodging boulders and potholes on the American Basin Road.  Arriving at the end of this road, we continue, on the Cinnamon Pass route.  Returning the way we came means over a hundred-mile drive to Durango, tonight’s destination.  Not more than 100’ up the route, a huge sign says, ‘High clearance, 4-wheel drive vehicles only, allowed beyond this point’.  We are in a high clearance, 4-wheel drive vehicle so we go for it.  The Garmin says it’s only four miles to the next road, which promises to be a better road.  This road becomes steeper, and rougher, with bigger boulders and longer deeper potholes.  All we see are Jeeps, motorcycles and OHV’s.  We take it even slower than yesterday, my eyes glued to the road, picking the flattest route through anything but flat.  We are able to speed up to 6 mph for brief stretches of the route, for maybe 100’ at a time.  Our usual speed is 2 – 4 mph, weaving our way from one side of the road to the other.  Somehow, we have accumulated a procession of vehicles behind us, we pull over making room for vehicles to pass; only a few do, the others wait for us to lead the way.  I feel like the Pied Piper of Cinnamon Pass.  We cross over Cinnamon Pass at 12,640’, for which the route is named, it takes over an hour to go just over four miles on this part of the route.  The final descent is the most treacherous, more boulders and potholes.  At the intersection going to Animas Forks, we have to make way for the line of people wanting to drive up where we just came from.  The first vehicle is a 4-wheel drive pickup, they couldn’t make it, having to turn around.  Frankly, if we had started going in that direction, seeing the condition of that road we would have turned around without even trying to drive it.  The final part before Animas Forks turns out to be the part we remember.  As we continue our drive the truck slips sideways, only a few inches but more than enough to get our attention.  We are not on a shelf road where a slip could mean disaster, but any slip after what we have been driving through gets our attention.  It was challenging for me having to pick the best route on a route that has no best route.  It was worse for Nicida, she had a white-knuckle ride for the past hour plus.

Stopping at the restrooms for a break, one of the vehicles I was leading, stopped.  “Where did you learn to drive like that.”  “You were fearless, you picked the smoothest route we could see.”  I accepted the compliments, thinking I just wanted to get us through the best way I could.  In the meantime, Nicida calls me to the camper, the floor, again is littered with items that didn’t start on the floor.  Worse yet is a noise, a rushing sound is coming from around the refrigerator, leaking gas? No odor.  Electrical? No odor of fried electrical parts.  Everything seems to be operating properly.  I check outside but cannot identify where the sound is coming from.  We can’t do anything about it here, so we press on to Silverton.  Another six miles of a less rocky road, but I still have to negotiate a smooth route.  Finally, it becomes a graded road, we can speed up to 25 mph.  Arriving at Silverton we stop, the sound is still there.  Still no odor.  I open the storage area above the refrigerator, the noise becomes louder.  I feel around, finding that the weather radio got turned on from all the bouncing we were doing.  Turning it off – rushing sound disappears.  What a relief.  We continue on to Durango, breathing easier, to our campground for the next three nights.

Durango

I chose this campground because, it’s convenient for visiting Durango, and the railroad tracks bisect the campground.  We sleep in, past 7.  During breakfast, we hear, then see the first of three Silverton trains pass by.  Scott, one of the campground workers, stops to talk.  We can go anywhere, but on the tracks, to photograph the trains.  Also, the Galloping Goose, a seldom seen or used engine will be passing on the same tracks a little later this morning.  Today is laundry day, fortunately for us, the laundry is right next to the tracks.  We stake out a spot to shoot the passing trains.  We set our auto focus points, exposures, and practice our zooming.  (Lenses, not meetings)  Laundry in the wash, we hear a train whistle.  We are out the door, assuming our shooting positions.  The train passes, all the cars are full of smiling, waving passengers.  Reviewing our images, we did fairly well, we have to make a few minor adjustments for the next train.  We head back to our laundry, the real reason we are here.  The second train passes 45 minutes later, we shoot that one too.  Shortly after that the Galloping Goose blows its whistle.  Not what we expected.  It looks like a small silver school bus, on train tracks.  We shoot it too.  Outgoing trains completed, we head back to our laundry.  Pulling it out of the dryer we spot yellow/orange stains on a few pieces of clothing.  Nicida identifies the culprit, one of her pills with turmeric broke open – the reason for the yellow/orange stains.  We hand scrub a few pieces turning the  wash basin water, orange.  We try another round of washing.  The results are a little better, but not clean.  This will be a home project.

Galloping Goose

Laundry finished; we head into Durango.  We stop in a few shops finding a few gifts for people and have hot chocolate for ourselves.  We head back to the campground getting ready to catch the trains on their return run.  We find a spot among the other campers, some with cameras, many with phones, everybody is smiling and waving.  Tomorrow will be our turn on the last run of the train of the day, smiling and waving.

Returning train

We wake early wanting to be at the depot to catch all the action.  Parking lots fill quickly.  We take in all the activity, watching for the engineer reaching for the chain to let the whistle blow.  A few quick tweets and they are on their way; ours is next.  We are in one of the open gondolas.  We have padded seats facing the outside of the car, we see everything going by.  The other side of the car is a mirror image with another 20 people looking out their side of the car.  This works because we see one side of our trip heading to Silverton and the other side returning.

Durango – Silverton Railroad

All aboard

The tracks run through the center of Durango.  Everybody waves at us.  The tracks parallel US 550, the road running between Durango and Silverton.  Several miles north of Durango we cross 550, heading into San Juan National Forest, climbing into the mountains, following the Animas River.  The scenery is beautiful, mountains change from chocolate brown, to pink, to cream.  Late summer wildflowers are blooming, and an occasional aspen turning its autumn yellow.  We start at river level, climbing to a few hundred feet above the river.

The train slows down for tight curves and stops to take on water, because it’s a steam train.  Just outside Silverton we spot a group of people panning for gold.  Nobody is shouting ‘Eureka’ or doing the happy dance, telling us there’s not so much gold in ‘them thar hills.’  We spot another group fly fishing, looking like they are enjoying their time on the river.

San Juan National Forest

Close quarters

Three and a half hours after our departure we arrive in Silverton.  The rain that has been promised for the past two days has arrived.  We exit the train to a light shower.  We find Natalia’s 1912 restaurant for lunch.  It is crowded, a good sign, but we are able to find a table.  Our waitress looks worn out, probably from the previous two train loads of passengers.  We tour part of the town, not wanting to wander too far.  Our
train is the last one of the day, “Do not miss it,” we are advised.

Animas River

Puffy white clouds fill the sky during our return trip.  We take to watching for wildlife, spotting a single deer, grazing; and two turkeys wandering an open field.  We arrive back at the depot, joining the crowd funneling out of the parking lot, then head back to the campground for the evening.

Thank you for stopping by,

Mark