My Trails

I had planned on staying at my camp in Colorado until Wednesday, but the remnants of a hurricane moving through the southwest was forecast to bring heavy rain to the area starting Tuesday night. Not wanting to deal with packing everything wet and taking a chance on soft, muddy roads going to the highway, I decided to move a day early. I really enjoyed my ten day stay in the San Juan National Forest below Pagosa Springs but it was time to move south and search for a warmer climate.

I drove 84 south into New Mexico and turned west on 64. A lot of northwest New Mexico is Indian Reservation and offers the traveling nomad little in the way of free dispersed camping. On the Internet I found a free campsite below Navajo Lake State Park and stayed one night. It was really nothing more than a parking lot for fishermen and hikers, but it was quiet and free which was the main thing.

The next morning I drove to Pine Campground in the state park. I have been kicking around the idea of buying a New Mexico State season pass and staying in state parks for the next month as I tour the state. It would pay for itself in three weeks and I wouldn’t have to worry about finding camping, dump, and water every few days. The campground at Navajo Lake was like a ghost town. The entry station in front was abandoned to self pay pipes, the visitors center was closed, the camp host was nowhere to be found, and only a handful of fishermen were camped in the park. There was nobody to even ask about a season pass.

I decided to stay one night to take advantage of the dump station, water fill, and hot showers in the bath house. For $10 it was a good deal. Once I was parked and set up, I walked down to the marina to take a look around.

The Marina was filled with rows of houseboats and rental watercraft of any size you could want. You could rent paddle boats, kayaks, rowboats, motorboats, houseboats, and even jet ski boats. This late in the year there wasn’t much going on. Only a few boats were out on the lake and the docks were empty

Years ago Mom and Dad spent many summers at this lake. Dad loved to fish and I could imagine him out on the lake in his little fishing boat, enjoying the relaxing hobby of casting a line into the water, waiting for that big fish to take the bait, and gathering tales to share with friends back at camp. It was nostalgic and sad all at the same time.

I noticed the little store on the main walkway to the rows of tied-off houseboats was open so I went in.

I told the girls in the store about Mom and Dad spending summers here at the lake and mentioned a picture taken of Dad holding a prized, trophy fish he had caught. I didn’t really expect there would be an old shoebox with discarded photographs but I asked about it anyway. Neither girl had any knowledge of such a thing. The only pictures posted on the walls were of proud fishermen holding their catch up for the camera in an advertisement for some fishing guide.

The next day I drove to Farmington and spent the night at Walmart. One thing I noticed about the drab and barren landscape along highway 64 is how rich the ground must be in gas and oil. There were dozens and dozens of well along the road. It seemed that every other vehicle I met was a white pickup, sporting a flag atop a long whip antenna, turning down side roads on their way to check on the wells. I also met quite a few tanker trucks running the highway to deliver the oil to the refineries. A lot of the main and side roads were pretty rough and I don’t doubt that all the heavy truck traffic has something to do with it.

The next morning, Friday, I traveled south out of Farmington on Rt. 371. I looked at some BLM boondocking a mile out of town but it was uninviting. The road in was steep and sandy, and with all the rain, reeked of a bad experience. It doesn’t take much wet sand to bury the tires of a motorhome.

Years of erosion

I continued south for another 30 miles to a place called Bisti/De-Na-Zin Wilderness that has a parking lot where people can camp overnight. The road in was washboard and filled with puddles. When I arrived at the parking lot I was surprised to see it was almost full of cars. It had been raining and cold for the last two days and I couldn’t imagine why anyone would want to hike out to the formations in all this mud and rain. I found one corner of the parking lot open and parked Minnie somewhat level.

later that morning I talked with some of the people here and found out they are a photography group meetings here to learn and share in their hobby. I guess some of the hoodoos and formations are very colorful if you catch them in the right light. They all walked out to the eroded cliffs in the evening and then again before dawn to photograph the sunrise display of color. They sure take their hobby seriously because it was below freezing overnight and some of them were camped in tents. I waited until about noon and the temperature was more human before I walked out into the wilderness area.

It has been a day of rain, hail, and lighting. Thankfully, the hail has been small and the lightning far away. The sky will darken and let loose with a torrential downpour for a few minutes, and then almost immediately, the sun will shine brightly, tempting me to venture out for a ride. I was almost fooled into riding down to a road I want to explore, but luckily I stayed close to home. It has been a good day to hunker down and catch up on the blog.

I’m camped in the San Juan National Forest, just south of Pagosa Springs, Colorado. As the crow flies it is only 15 miles north of the border or New Mexico. I checked out a place called Kinney Flats where RVSue boondocked a while ago, but I couldn’t find a good campsite and I had no cell signal. I unloaded Honda and explored up a road called Valle Seco where I found a good camp with marginal cell signal. I will probably stay here for about a week.

Abandoned comfort station in the woods.

There are several camps of hunters on this road. They are quite friendly and stop to talk as they drive by in their pickups and ATV’s. They always want to know if I’ve heard any “bugling “. I get the sense they like to drive the roads looking for game more than walking in the woods. I know they really like to talk about hunting.

I have been having trouble with my solar the last few weeks. It just didn’t seem to be charging like it should. Yesterday, I grabbed hold of the connector where I plug my portable panels into the pigtail on my rig and found it extremely hot! When I wiggled the wires they fell apart. The connection was all corroded and I was loosing all the juice from the panels. I spliced them back together with a temporary fix and now they are working great again.

Next stop will be New Mexico. I have been looking for a New Mexico Delorme Gazetteer in the last few towns I’ve been through but have not found one yet. The detailed topographic maps help me find dispersed camping in most of my travels and I rely more on them than any other source. I cringe at the investment I’ve made in these maps – I have 9 state atlases at $20 each.

Dunes

As I slowly transition my travels from the lofty mountains of Colorado to the warmer climate in New Mexico, I noticed Great Sand Dunes National Park was on the way. It didn’t look like there was any National Forest nearby where I could camp so I decided to stay in the park for a couple days. I also needed to dump and fill with water, and knew I could do both there.

The campground had two loops, one that was first come basis, and another that was reservation only. A few of the sites in the reservation loop could be used if they were not reserved for the night. It was a very confusing system and puzzling to figure out. Two other campers and I looking for a site were not sure if we had to call Reserve.Gov or just pay at the entrance. The camp host finally assured us we could pay here.

I never expected to find the campground so full. It was after Labor Day and I was arriving on a Wednesday. I thought that after the kids went back to school and the weather turned to Fall that the parks would be less crowded. I mentioned this to a park employee and she told me that that is what a lot of people think. The reality is that retired people are out in force thinking the same way I do.

There is not much to see at Great Sand Dunes National Park. Once you walk through the visitor center – two thirds of which is dedicated to a gift shop – and climb up the sand dunes, you’ve pretty much seen it all.

The geology and history of the park were interesting. The sign markers spend a lot of detail telling how the blowing sand from the San Luis Valley got trapped in a basin of the Cristo Mountains and was piled as high as 750 feet.

I climbed part way up the dunes on my second day at the park. One of the attractions for adventurous people who visit the park is sledding the dunes. They use special sleds and snowboards, made slippery with a special wax applied to the bottom surface. I saw quite a few falls but the sand cushions a lot of the impact. I’m sure there are some that take on more hill than skill level and get hurt, too.

I left the park on Friday and traveled west to South Fork, Colorado. South Fork is surrounded by national forest and I explored a few roads looking for a dispersed campsite to ride out the weekend. I looked at a couple pay campgrounds on the Beaver Creek Road but I didn’t think they were as special as the price indicated. I finally met a forest employee and asked him about free camping and he directed me to the Park Creek Road.

Pretty place to camp.

But cold overnight!

I’m not sure what the elevation is here because I have no cell signal. I have a feeling it is probably close to 9000. I’m not very far from the Continental Divide and it was only 25 degrees this morning. It is a pretty campsite, nestled in a valley of lush meadows, surrounded by tall pines and Aspen just starting to change to fall color, and a gentle, clear stream beside my rig. The only thing that gives me pause is the fact it is hunting season, and pickups with quads loaded on trailers have been driving by all morning.

Make up your own caption.

With all the cold weather at my 9500 foot camp, I was determined to find a place where I could sit in the sun and bake. In the morning I drove east on Route 50, and as soon as I crested the Continental Divide at Monarch Pass and started down the other side, the sun came out and the air had a more gentler feel. With the sun on my face and optimism that summer would last another week, I turned north at Salida and drove to Leadville.

Leadville is over 10,000 feet high, and in a hot summer, the perfect place to be. I rationalized that it would be good to explore the area for a few days and mark down future camps. As long as it doesn’t get way below freezing, I should be okay.

From other blogs I knew where a good dispersed camping place was. I followed a road called Half Moon up into the San Isabel National Forest, found a perfect spot, and set up camp.

The sun was warm so I jumped on Honda to explore the forest road past my camp. As I drove the road I found three forest campgrounds and two trailheads that hikers use to climb into the 14,000 foot peaks. I stopped at one trailhead and walked a half mile to where it joined the Continental Divide Trail, just to say I was on it again.

On the way back I pulled into one of the forest service campgrounds to check it out. I first stopped to read the board and see what they charge. I was a little surprised to see it was $16. The sites were tight, the road was in bad need of grading, and I couldn’t see any water spigots. As I drove the loop a pickup chased after me and flagged me down. I turned Honda off and said, “Hi.”

“You can’t ride that in here!”, was the first thing out of his mouth.

“Sure I can. This is licensed for highway use.”

“It doesn’t matter! “, he shot back. “This is a private campground.”

“Isn’t this a forest service campground?”

“It is run by a private concessionare. We get a lot of off road people driving through here with their noisy machines. Campers can’t even sit outside and enjoy their dinner.”

I explained to him that I was just looking for possible places to camp while I was there. I told him that I drove slowly through campgrounds and was respectful of people camping. He kind of softened then and agreed that I was being respectful. It probably helped when he realized I was the same age as he and not some smart-allic kid on a dirt bike.

Nice camp

I asked him why with all the beautiful dispersed campsites along the road would anyone spend $16 to camp here?

“Well, you have the outhouses”, was all he could come up with.

I have run into the concessionare campgrounds before. The forest service doesn’t have the time or resources to take care of campgrounds and they must be having trouble getting camp hosts. This guy said he takes care of three campgrounds and I’m sure it is a paid position. I’m afraid the next change that will come with turning forest campgrounds over to private companies is the end of discounts for seniors.

Cold!

It has been raining here for four days. I wouldn’t mind the rain so much but along with it has come chilly temperatures. A few night have been below freezing and the days seldom get out of the 50’s. I don’t like running my heater all the time so I sit under a blanket in the morning and evenings. This is not my idea of migrating with the weather so I guess it is time to find a warmer location.

About the only thing I have done this week – except for staying cooped up inside my camper – is get in short walks when the rain reluctantly lets up. I did build a fire one evening to burn some trash, but the sticks I found were so wet the fire was stubborn to light. I have a stream near Minnie so getting water for washing and flushing is convenient.

Moose

Two days ago a moose and her two young ones walked by my camp. That was pretty cool! I opened the door and took several pictures. I was afraid of scaring them off but they were pretty tame.

Four days ago, before all the gloomy, wet weather set in, I rode a few miles to a town called Tin Cup. Tin Cup is the site of an old mining town, abandoned when the minerals ran out, and kept alive by the few tourists that spend summer vacations there.

The cafe and store are the only businesses that I saw. In the store were racks of hats, t-shirts, and trinkets, all printed with the town name and priced to reflect a tourist establishment. On a small shelf were a few candy bars for sale, and a small cooler with a glass door held a few drinks.

While I rode the dirt, main street through town, I saw a sign that pointed to the cemetery and decided to take a look. Some of the grave markers dated back into the 1800’s and there were a few that had been erected in the last few years. What was interesting about the cemetery was how it was laid out. There were four distinct hills that defined the burial grounds, and each hill held people of different faiths. There was a Catholic knoll, a Jewish knoll, and two Protestant knolls. I’m not sure where they put the Atheists.

The sun is out now so I had better pack a few things before it starts to rain again.