Pagosa Springs Postscript
Clearer day affords amazing views at Elk Trace
Day 14 saw us having another spectacular ride on the logging roads that string together these breathtaking alpine meadows along the ridges that rise behind Elk Trace. Storms the night before meant a bit less dust and much clearer views of the magnificent San Juan Mountains that buttress Pagosa to the north. And, I found bones again! This time not elk antlers but coyote skulls. As a frustrated zoologist, I find this stuff fascinating. Kurt thinks I’m weird shoving dead animal pieces in saddlebags (not sure Juneau digs it either) but I bet that’s what folks said about Georgia O’Keefe when painted cow skulls.
Speaking of art, we went into town after our ride and wandered through the shops. I fell in love with a photo of a herd of mustangs near Mesa Verde. My only regret about our stop in Pagosa is that we couldn’t find time to get to Mesa Verde and tour the cliff dwellings; this print will have to do for now. I’m kind of hating the notion of saying goodbye to this place and trading thin but cool air for more oxygen but cooking temps in Moab, but that’s the plan.
Day 15 – The road from Pagosa to Moab redeems Colorado DOT for the horrors of 70 in the eastern end of the state. This was a smooth ribbon of concrete winding beautifully through some stunning valleys. There were a few hairy climbs and descents as we lost about 3,000 feet to get to the deserts of Utah, but nothing we seasoned trailer drivers (never thought I’d say that!) couldn’t handle. And oh, what a change in scenery! Not sure I’d say this red-rock country is beautiful, but it is impressive. With horses settled at the Global Endurance Training Center we drove through Moab to our hotel. Moab has grown from the sleepy tourist stop I remember from my visit here in the early 1990s to a shockingly large (and I must say ugly) strip of hotels and restaurants. Still, we had a great Thai dinner that I don’t think was on offer 30 years ago. I’m looking forward to an early morning ride to the top of one of these mesas. Hoping Juneau figures out that the run-in where the auto-waterer is in his paddock isn’t haunted. He wouldn’t step in it when we left him for the night.