Unwinding the last mountain roads

Mt. Garfield and the Book Cliffs, Palisade

It’s hard to leave the Grand Valley without fruit. The reports from an April freeze in Grand Valley were grim – a late cold spell drove temperatures into the low 20s, far past where the orchard fans can prevent damage. The freeze came at the point of no return for the peach crop, ruining part if not all of every grower’s crop.

We decided to see if we could get anything local at Herman Produce in Palisade. Efforts to visit local bakeries were dashed by the pandemic and Wednesday closures.

Herman Produce had a pink building with orchards outside and intimidating views of Mountain Garfield. Lo and behold, there were peaches. I had to ask if they were local, hoping not to insult the staff. Sure enough, these peaches came from their orchards.

The peach apocalypse of April had spared some growers at lower elevations along the Colorado River. Herman lost 40 percent of its crop – a rough toll, but the first peaches of the season were on their shelves. Each of us bought a full box, mine turned into a peach bread and a peach cobbler in the following week.

With the fruit question settled, ow to return to the springs was up in the air. The interstate was ruled out first. We could just take U.S. 50 all the way to Salida. Fortunately, there were some places on the map we had not touched, and we could cross them and run north of the Black Canyon before reuniting with 50.

Black Canyon

South of Grand Junction, the canyonlands do not let up. From the highway, they reveal some spectacular geology protected as the Dominguez-Escalante National Conversation Area. The Gunnison River carved this place as well. For all the rivers across southwest Colorado, it might have the biggest influence outside the Colorado River. Turnoffs for Delta and Cedaredge drifted past.

Gradually the desert disappeared into a far green country, and Hotchkiss approached. We briefly stopped at the Creamery Arts Center, a former dairy creamery redeveloped on its main street. Both Hotchkiss and Paonia had numerous restaurants but most were closed this Wednesday morning. The wineries here were also delaying opening. So we mostly swung through these towns, admired the murals and small business before Route 92 turned to the mountainous south.

Route 92 doesn’t have a scenic designation in the map book, but it should. Miles of curves without guardrails, mountainside loops take drivers through seldom-explored territory. The south rim of the Black Canyon is a simple visit, the north must be earned.  After days of mountain driving, the north side of the Black Canyon appeared both beautiful and perilous. The  Finally, the road reached the blue Mesa Dam. The road across the dam was gravel and there were no guardrails. I was highly encouraged to drive down the middle of said road, and I did.

Curecanti National Recreational Area, which surrounded the entire Blue Mesa Reservoir, bloomed with activity, the 25-mile slash of blue in this high-altitude desert. With the holiday approaching, boaters were out in force. Crumbling desert mesas soared above the blue waters, bringing me back to Mesa Verde anytime I looked up.

Gunnison barely registered. The whole place felt crowded, far more crowded than a county seat that was restricting outside visitors due to the pandemic. We pressed onto Monarch Pass. Eastbound crossers of Monarch get all the breaks -while the road maintains a westbound passing lane to the top of the pass, the westbound lanes are along the cliff-s edge the entire time.

Monarch crosses the southern end of the Sawatch Range, which contains Mt. Elbert (highest peak in Colorado), the Collegiate Peaks and more 14’ers. At 11,312 feet Monarch Pass is not as high as two seasonal passes deeper in the mountains, Cottonwood and Independence. But for that day, with so many passes crossed in recent memory, it was enough and I was eager to get over it.

I need to spend more time in Salida. I‘ve been saying that since I moved here. It always feels like I’m nipping around the edges and never getting the full experience. This time, we gave one of its breweries a shot. Soulcraft Brewery advertised food. The food truck was closed so we had a single beer each – a Centennial-rich IPA that hit the spot after Monarch. At the Thai Mini Café, we made our final stand of the trip, a fine Thai lunch served by an older Asian couple.

Barely two hours passed before we descended Ute Pass and rolled back into Colorado Springs. From Salida, there’s no town of note until Woodland Park ( sorry, Nathrop, Hartsel, Florissant and Divide) and we blazed across the path. South Park was a footnote, just a few cattle herds and ever-present thoughts of buying land out there for a trailer just to have land out there. The region is more comforting than shocking now.

After 14 months in Colorado, South Park feels more like home than something exotic. That takes nothing away from the high-mountain plain; it just feels familiar. There are still many corners of the state, even after this survey of the southwest corridor, that can dangle surprise and dazzling views around any bend.