Colorado Snow

Another beautiful day... another beautiful drive on another new road over Utah's Highway 46 and Colorado's 90 and 145.

As we left Moab, the sun began breaking through the clouds.  We noticed that all of the surrounding mountains had a new dusting of snow.  The further we drove, the more snow we found.  By the time we arrived in Ridgway, the snow was deep, and the roads a bit icy.

One of our favorite drives in this area is up Last Dollar Road.  It has several beautiful aspen groves, and I was on the hunt for gold.  As we turned to determine the road conditions, we spied a lone coyote on a snowy hill.

Last Dollar Road was slushy but passable.  We decided to camp at Ridgway State Park for the night and take photos tomorrow.  I love Colorado but hate the prices of their state campgrounds.  Visitors must pay a camping fee of $20, the daily pass of $7, plus pay for showers.  It seems particularly odd that prices would be so high with so much national forest land available to camp on for free.  This evening, however, the sunset alone was worth the price of admission.

Sunset Ridgway State Park, Colorado

We broke camp the next morning, excited to find color.  My beautiful Colorado Rockies didn't disappoint.

Dallas Divide, Ridgway, Colorado

With the snow so deep, however, we found some of our favorite drives impassable.  We took a drive up to the Dallas Creek trailhead, only to turn back because of snow.  Roxanne, however, loved it!!!

We found Owl Creek Pass also to be snowy, slushy, and icy.  The view, however, was as remarkable as always...

The next day, we headed for Silverton.  We had hoped to drive the four-wheel-drive trail to one of our favorite spots, an old ghost town above Silverton.  Unfortunately, we found the snow too deep to even attempt.  We drove on towards Durango, stopping amidst new snow flurries to take a few photos at Molas Pass.

Molas Pass

With more snow in the forecast and honking geese urging us ever onward, we continue to move south.  We feel caught between two worlds.  It seems too early to go home, yet the morning chill and mountains dressed in wedding white whisper otherwise.   We have bouts of restlessness, sometimes feeling like the old John Denver song... that we should have been home yesterday.

By the time we hit Durango, the sun was shining.  The die had already been cast, however.  We are heading home.

“All things on earth point home in old October; 
sailors to sea, travellers to walls and fences, 
hunters to field and hollow and the long voice of the hounds, 
the lover to the love he has forsaken.”
~ Thomas Wolfe, 
Of Time and the River: A Legend of Man's Hunger in His Youth

Telluride on Dwellable