There are many simple, yet evocative terms to describe the physical landscape of North America. The Great Plains, where once the Bison roamed in numbers unimaginable today, extends two thousand miles from Canada to Texas. Sometimes it is just too easy to dismiss these vast flat expanses or question why on earth people persist in continuing to live in Tornado Alley. Continue west though and sooner or later you will slam into the Rocky Mountains - three thousand miles of mountains from Canada to New Mexico. The Continental Divide of the Americas runs through the Rockies and determines whether water will end in the Atlantic or the Pacific oceans.
It had been a beautiful stay but we needed to continue. I returned to the world's 15th busiest airport and Rosie continued to climb her way on I-70 . The great state of Colorado had indeed been great. The plains, the mountains, the rivers and the bears had been kind enough to let us have our very small view and the Continental Divide now decreed that we flow onward to the Pacific coast.
Our next destination was the state of Colorado, a state shaped by the power of the land and the meeting place for these great landscapes. To the east are the Great Plains and to the west the Southern Rockies. The state is named after the Colorado river, which begins its life in the Rockies and makes its way through dramatic canyons, including of course the Grand Canyon itself.
We were so very far from the Southern coasts. I arrived in Denver Airport and was amazed by the size of the place. Nothing in Colorado fails to be dramatic and this is the largest airport in the USA by area - 54 square miles. It has the longest public use runway in the US and is the fifteenth busiest airport in the world - not bad for a state with a population just over 5 million (comparable to Scotland). Impressive though it was and reassuring though all the Tornado shelters were, I would probably try to avoid Denver in the future because it took an age just to get out the airport and to the hire car.
J and Harriet were already at the campsite and I had spoken to them before arriving so I was more prepared. The interstates out of Denver look much like any in the US but it does not stay that way for long. The I-70 begins in Baltimore and ends in Utah, but in order to get there it must cross the Rocky mountains. Soon into the journey you are aware that you are traveling on a very ambitious piece of civil engineering.
The I-70 is full of oddities. For one thing it has a lower speed limit in the left (fast/passing) lane than the right in sections as you climb and twist your way (presumably to discourage flying off the edge into thin air). The yellow warning signs persistently remind you to test your brakes and though not relevant at this time of year, warn of dire consequences if you attempt to take this road without chains. Periodically there are massive barriers at junctions that can be used to close the road and as you push on the signs become colloquial but serious in tone: "Trucks you are not there yet", "Trucks don't be fooled".
In my brand new Ford Taurus it was little problem but the 11 tons of Rosie had a much harder job and it is a testament to her and J's driving that they made it through this.
The story of the US is sadly too often one of exploitation. Bison make way for Cattle and the towns in the Rockies that we were passing and would visit were created for the sole reason of exploiting the reserves of gold and silver. Yet for all our power in building roads and blasting tunnels there are still severe constraints imposed by the land. The parkway that would take us to Central City was a fine four lane road but had to obey the geography and could not avoid hard turns and rapid ascents and descents.
The cruelest blow though came at the top. You could see the KOA campsite but there was no turning. Instead, you had to dive down 500ft, turn around and then make an implausibly steep ascent back up to where you had just been. I have no idea how Rosie managed it but from now on I think I can safely describe the hills of San Francisco as gentle.
Our campsite sat at 9,000ft above sea level and was cool. The mountains towered all around us and below us was a sheer drop into Central City.
The campsite was nice enough and Hatty made lots of friends as usual. It would be too cold for a swimming pool but there were two hot tubs inside. Hatty and I went in the tub - ever the trailblazers because I could see so many people curious and eventually deciding to join in. After we were finished I left her by the side of the hot tub holding court and she spent more or less the whole evening with a new friend who was almost the same age. After they were done in the tub it was out to the swings - I would periodically check on her and chat to the parents. The main game seemed to be pretending to be on a rocket ship and traveling to other planets as the swings were pushed higher and higher. It all seemed so appropriate given we were so much closer to the stars.
The next day Hatty and I tried to visit a gold mine but it was closed. So we spent some time in Central City. This now intends to make its money from casinos but was extremely quiet. We looked in a few stores but I got tired of making conversation with the sales people, who seemed to be completely starved of human interaction. There must be money in the town because it is so well maintained but it does feel like it is on the verge of being a ghost town. One nice moment though was passing a barn and hearing operatic singing - Central City is home to one of the oldest opera companies in the US and I presume this is where they practice.
Since it was not an option to go to the casinos we visited the museum and learned a little about the city and its mining history.
The museum contained items that were expected as well as the unexpected (a wooden submarine), They have a treasure hunt for children by telling them to find the location of two stuffed chickens in return for a candy reward. This was less successful a distraction for us because Hatty wanted to find those chickens and would look at nothing that was not potentially chicken related and would not stop talking about it. So in the end we had to find the chickens before I got any peace to look at the exhibits.
Other than stuffed chickens the main animals we saw were chipmunks. There was one animal though that was close to us though thankfully we did not see it. In the morning there was trash strewn on the campsite and down into the slopes below. Warning messages on the local TV left us in no doubt - we had been visited by bears who had emptied the dumpster. The warnings said not to let your children play alone and the campsite was regularly patrolled by police.
The bear is another fine reminder of our smallness in this great landscape. It is also a reminder of how hard we must work to make sure we live in balance with our surroundings - warning signs about bears are common in US parks but this brought it home just how important it is to lock up and secure food. Campgrounds forbid you from keeping food in tents or trailers (hard sided motor-homes are fine) and I thought of Hatty's friend who was camping in a tent 50 ft away from the dumpster. You are warned that you do not really realize what a bear claw can do to a tent until it is probably too late.
It had been a beautiful stay but we needed to continue. I returned to the world's 15th busiest airport and Rosie continued to climb her way on I-70 . The great state of Colorado had indeed been great. The plains, the mountains, the rivers and the bears had been kind enough to let us have our very small view and the Continental Divide now decreed that we flow onward to the Pacific coast.
