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Rattlesnake Canyon

Posted on August 26, 2015 by Bill Leave a comment

Dramatic

Rattlesnake Canyon is near Fruita, Colorado, where I grew up. My friends and I ran all over the hills north and west of the Colorado National Monument, but I had never been to

Rattlesnake Canyon. It is a bit too far for kids on foot. We got into the canyons just east of the canyon, now part of the Black Ridge Wilderness, but I did not know about the arches in Rattlesnake Canyon.

Close to town, the canyon is a bit tough to get to. The Pollock Canyon trailhead near the river means an overnight backpack to do justice to the country. The other route follows Black Ridge west from the Glade Park Store, and is for 4×4 vehicles or Subarus you are willing to bash around. From the trailhead it is about four miles on the trail if you take the shortcut.

I have rambled around the Colorado Plateau off and on all my life. From the Grand Canyon to Dinosaur and from the Grand Hogback to the Wasatch, the plateau offers some

Rattlesnake Canyon

of the most magnificent country anywhere. Rattlesnake Canyon is up there with the best. Arches has more arches, and there are bigger canyons (not that many), but Rattlesnake has it all. The real bonuses are that it is close and not cluttered up with people. With the exception of Grand Canyon, most anywhere else offered some solitude at one ime. No longer. Thirty miles from Grand Junction, with a competent high clearance vehicle you can be in wilderness in view of Fruita.

Ah, the sense of space. I live in the city and it is impossible to have a sense of space, even with Mt. Evans looking down at you. From those canyon rims the expanse opens my mind. Grand Mesa, the Bookcliffs, and the Roan Cliffs rim the Grand Valley, quite a scene by itself.

The canyon walls are Wingate sandstone capped by harder Kayenta sandstone. That cap rock forms a bench with the Entrada sandstone (slickrock) set back from the rim. Rim Rock Drive in the Monument is mostly on that bench, and the trail to Rattlesnake drops down on the bench and curves around the canyon rim to the arches. The arches are in the slickrock, ancient sand dunes turned to stone. It is easy to see the rounded dunes in the rock. Erosion works its way into the cliffs following the curve of the dunes, forming alcoves. As the alcoves erode farther, sometimes the back of the alcove drops out, leaving an arch. I saw six of them. Arches in Colorado, the second largest concentration in the country, maybe the world.

About that trail. I got away from Denver at 6:00 AM, not my best time of day. I filled my water bottle and left it on the kitchen counter. I didn’t realize it until I was at the trailhead at about 1:30 PM. I am also out of shape, my exercise restricted by a couple of broken ribs for five weeks. Have I mentioned that I am 72 years old and impulsive? I looked at the sign, 3 1/2 miles. It was only 90 degrees or so, a piece of cake.

First Arch. Where I climbed up the rock through the arch.

I covered about half of the trail when I realized I was getting a bit dry. “Keep going, I can drink later”. The arches were a progression along the bench and close to the trail. With that row of arches on one side and that magnificent canyon with 400 foot sheer walls branching into side canyons on the other side, I was literally staggered by the beauty. Well maybe the stagger was because I was tired and thirsty. I caught up to a party of six people at the last arch, known as First Arch. At First Arch was the sign saying End of Trail. I didn’t know that, and by that time I was stopping to rest fairly often, so while resting I watched the party climb up the slickrock through the arch. I knew the trailhead was only about 1/2 mile from the arch. So, it was climb up the rock through that impressive arch or backtrack 3 1/2 miles. I climbed.

I have done a lot of sandstone climbing, and used to be pretty good at it. That was when I wasn’t 72, tired, getting sore, and thirsty. I climbed anyway. I would do about 20 feet, catch my breath, figure out my next moves, and climb again. The proper way to climb that stuff is on your feet even if it is steep. Feet have more traction than denim, and the work is easier than trying to slither up. I slithered. I was too weak to trust myself trying to walk up those steep slopes.

The rock has curves, little depressions, some tiny ridges, notches, and hollows to give one a way up. I tried to pick the easiest route, but it was still pretty steep. My knees paid the price, getting some good scrapes. Up on the rim, that last half mile was tough. It was uphill, but not too bad. I stopped twice and flopped down in the shade for a few minutes while walking slowly back to the truck.

There was about 1/4 of a cup of coffee in the truck that sure tasted good. I was lightheaded and pretty wobbly during the drive out. I stopped at the Visitor Center in the Park and drank water for a while. I got a motel room in Fruita about 6:00 PM, didn’t eat dinner, and drank water until lights out about 9:30.

Sunday morning I had breakfast, drank water, and took the scenic route back to Denver. I drank water and went up Plateau Creek to Collbran, went over Grand Mesa to Paonia where I had lunch and drank water, then over McClure Pass to Glenwood and home on I-70. I was fully rehydrated by Monday.

I didn’t see a rattlesnake in Rattlesnake Canyon

After a few minor incidents in the backcountry over the years, I have developed several rules to follow when Out There. Take water. Take enough water for the other persons you come across who didn’t bring enough water. Be in shape. Research where you are going so you know what to expect. Have a map. Carry the ten essentials in case you get into trouble. Tell people where you are going. You really should not go alone. I broke every rule.

What the fuck is wrong with me? I know. I am an impulsive ADD. When I got to the trailhead and saw I had no water I should have driven out. But, I wouldn’t have this story to tell. What I did do right was pace myself, not panic, and take my time getting out. It is just that my brain didn’t kick in until three hours too late.

Posted in Arches, Colorado Plateau, Current Activities, Dehydration in Back Country, Four Wheeling, Memoirs, My Story, Pain, Rattlesnake Canyon, Stories, Uncompahgre Uplift, Western Colorado

Four Wheel Drive Equipment

Posted on June 3, 2015 by Bill 2 comments

Willys Jeep Wagon

I have been involved in four wheeling since childhood. Stuck up to the axles and high-centered in Utah, Colorado, South Dakota, and Wyoming. I like to get out where the country is wild and there aren’t too many people around. My favorite places are mountain passes in Colorado and the vast red rock country in Utah. I am not a hard core rock-crawler with a vehicle jacked up in the air with near tractor tires whining and rumbling down the street.

I have had International Scouts, Nissans, Dodges, and my current Toyota Tacoma. There is a long succession of Jeeps I have ridden in and driven. I have also been stranded in them. So, no Jeep for me, I just don’t trust them. There are lots of choices in four wheelers, but not as many choices for cheap four wheelers. I’m cheap.

1953 Chevy 2wd

I buy base model vehicles. I even bought one without air conditioning. 4x4s aren’t particularly cheap, but it is not necessary to spend $50,000 for a nice rig. My Dodge pickup had a small engine. Oh, wait, it wasn’t even four wheel drive, although I treated it like it was. I guess my willingness to use a two wheeler goes back to my youth, when we had a 1953 Chevrolet pickup. That was in the days when the only 4x4s were old military Jeeps and the venerable Dodge Power Wagon. Both were capable, but slow and fairly unreliable (35 mph in the Jeep, about 50 in a Power Wagon). Dad and I went hunting and fishing in that old Chevy. Dad was an amazing driver in the bad stuff. He used to maintain the telephone line from Fruita to Cisco, Utah across that adobe desert in a two wheel drive pickup. Up in the Bookcliff area, there used to be a pile of rocks at the bottom of a bad hill. If it was muddy or snowy the driver would stop, load the rocks in the back of the pickup, go about his business, and unload the rocks at the bottom of the hill on the way out.

Two times we went places in that old Chevy where no sane person would go without four wheel drive. Once, we were deer hunting up in the Douglas Pass country after a storm. The road was muddy with that slick stuff Western Colorado is famous for. We drove down into a saddle that was steep at either end. We couldn’t get up the hill. A newer pickup came by that had a limited slip differential, new at the time, and went right up the hill. We had to put the tire chains on.

Battlement Lakes Road

The other adventure was going fishing at the Battlement Lakes road on Grand Mesa. That road wasn’t steep, but was full of big rocks and mud holes. It was narrow, with little room to maneuver around obstacles. Dad put that old pickup in second gear, not even the granny gear, and mostly idled along thar road with that old Chevy six lugging along. The rocks in back rolled around and smashed my good spinning rod. We met some guys in there in a Jeep. They could not believe we got in there with a two wheel drive pickup. I don’t think the fishing was very good that day, but no matter.

Scout I

After he retired, Dad got into four wheeling. His first one was an old Jeep station wagon with a 283 Chevy V8. That thing was good in the bad stuff, but leaked oil and had some ignition problems. The next one was an International Scout I. Pretty primitive, but capable with one exception. There was a place on Elephant Hill in Canyonlands named Scout Slot. It was narrow, in solid rock with a ledge that was in just the right place to break the transfer case of a Scout.

After that was an older model Jeep Cherokee. It was pretty good, and it went around the White Rim Trail with some friends. Next was a Scout II. It was good, but one night coming off Elephant Hill it quit. Dad and I walked to the Canyonlands Resort and got the owner to tow us with his Ford pickup. We bounced a short distance and the Scout started. The carburetor float must have been stuck and bounced loose. I sold the Scout for the Dodge pickup.

2009 Tacoma

I did two wheel drive for a while then bought a Nissan Frontier. It was capable, lasted quite a while, then I crashed it on ice in Glenwood Canyon. Now it is the Toyota. It is good, but I gave it a dent on Pearl Pass. Now I have a Detroit Trutrac limited slip differential which should help. Summer is coming, and I’m ready to get out there.

Posted in Current Activities, Four Wheeling, Memoirs, My Story, Stories

Decay

Posted on April 27, 2015 by Bill Leave a comment

Old Mine Building

My friend and I have coffee fairly often. We have many common interests, from DU Lacrosse to politics,spirituality, motorcycles, and bicycles to name a few. He plays pickleball, I don’t. I write, he doesn’t. We have fun.

We do find ourselves discussing our health care issues. He is coming off his second knee replacement. I have only had one. He needs a prostate ream job, I had one. He has had bypass surgery, I have high blood pressure. Even though he is fairly nuts, I don’t think he has ADD. Poor guy.

He is a year younger than I am, but I look better. We are both getting a bit on in years. Both retired, we have active, engaged lives. It’s good to share this time of life with another old dude. That health care thing does loom. Things do not work as well as they used to. The night before last I sustained a sleeping injury. I rolled over and Ow, Ow. My bad back did not like that particular motion.

Now what is that about? A stupid sleeping injury! Hiking, motorcycling, bicycling, home maintenance projects, at work, yes, but sleeping? Carol had a reading injury (wrist) but at least she was awake doing something. This is getting serious. Should I just stay in bed, not get up? Well, no that’s where I hurt myself. If I walk I might fall. If I drive, I might get a ticket. If I stay in my chair, I’ll get fat. There is no way out.

How did I get myself in this fix? I have always been something of a risk taker. I climbed fourteeners. I did both dirt and canyons on my motorcycle. I scrambled around in the slickrock desert alone. I jeeped over 13000 feet high passes alone. I bicycled in ten degree temperature weather on the ice to get to work. Now I hurt myself sleeping.

I am going to leave this coffee shop, drive up to Gilpin county, and go hiking.

Later. I went to Gilpin County, hiked and jeeped. I whacked my head on a low door frame in an old mine building, so now I have a scalp laceration. Some days.

Posted in Aging, Back Country Accident, Four Wheeling, Health Issues, Humor, My Story, Pain, Stories

Pearl Pass Part Two

Posted on September 15, 2014 by Bill 2 comments

North Side to Summit

In Part 1 I discussed the history of Pearl Pass and my family connection. I also covered the four wheel drive experience travelers have on the pass. I have been rambling around the Rocky Mountains most of my life. There is a lot of good country here. I am fortunate to have spent time in some of the Rockies from New Mexico to Alberta.

Some of the best pieces of mountain country are the Elk Mountains. I have not spent much time there because of Aspen. A Western Colorado native, for many years I harbored a prejudice against ski area development. Aspen is the ski town that started the Twentieth Century Gold Rush, this time mining tourist pockets. The place is just too rich for a small town boy. Over time I lost my bias, but still tended to avoid the Aspen area. I have never been to the Maroon Bells.

Living along the Front Range influenced not visiting the Roaring Fork Valley as it is a four hour drive to Aspen from Denver. Rocky Mountain National Park and the Collegiate Peaks are a lot closer. Recapturing my interest in my family history has drawn me to Pearl Pass. If Grandmother Pearl could drive a wagon over the pass in 1887, I should do it as well.

Pearl Pass has seen no change in the last 130 years. Between Aspen and Ashcroft the road is paved and there is development, but once on the four wheel drive road it is as it was. It goes between the Collegiate Peaks Wilderness and the Maroon Bells Snowmass Wilderness. Together, they harbor the largest cluster of 14,000 foot high peaks in North America.

Sandstone

That huge area of high mountain wilderness means wild. Pearl Pass is one of the wildest places I have ever visited. Up high, what you see is almost all above timberline. To the east, the mountains are granite, what I am familiar with in Colorado. To the west is sandstone. Layered sandstone, capped with basalt.

To me, that layered rock seems wild, out of place. It is gray, with a hint of red. When I see sandstone I expect red or tan. The view is so striking and beautiful I am at a loss for words. I have been trying for days to come up with a description that matches what I saw. The pictures will give you an idea, but cannot portray the impact of so much wild space with little human influence.

One reason for the view is because the Elk Mountains are west of the central Colorado Mountains and get more moisture. The glacial cirques are huge, creating a series of basins surrounded by many high peaks 13,000- feet or higher. The pass itself is 12,700 feet high, surpassed by Mosquito Pass for example, but unsurpassed in sheer majesty.

I am now committed to more exploration of the Elk Mountains. There are Taylor and Schofield Passes that are four wheel drive accessible. A winter drive to the Maroon Bells is on my list. I may even break down and get out and walk. My backpacking days are over, but there are lots of day hikes. Lots of people on the trails, but most of them are nice people. The high passes are for solitude.

Posted in Colorado Mountains, Family History, Four Wheeling, My Story, Stories

Pearl Pass Part One

Posted on September 8, 2014 by Bill Leave a comment

Road to Ashcroft

On Wednesday, September 3, I drove over Pearl Pass. Pearl is one of those four wheeling trips that have been on my list for a long time. My grandmother, Pearl Willits Shanks, drove a team and wagon over the pass when the Willits family moved from north Texas to Colorado in 1887. Pearl was 12 when she drove over the pass. She may have been a Texas girl before Pearl Pass, but she was a mountain girl after that.

The road was built as a toll road in the early 1880’s from the railhead in Crested Butte to the newly discovered silver mining area in Aspen. It was in use until the railroads came to Aspen in the late 1880’s. The main use was hauling coal from mines at Crested Butte to Aspen.

Today the road is much like it was in the nineteenth century. From the start of the four wheel drive portion until it drops into the valley on the Crested Butte side it has no dirt, just rock.

The Bad Ledge

Fist sized rocks, baby head sized rocks, rock ledges, big rocks in narrow places, and big rocks in the middle of the road. One can grow tired of rock.

It is also narrow, made for wagons a long time ago. There is no room for error. In reading about the pass, most of the reports involving trouble were where a vehicle got too far to the side. When that happens, there better be good help available, because it is a long way to the bottom if the vehicle rolls over.

I was able to drive over all those rocks with no real damage to my Toyota Tacoma other than losing a mudflap. The forest ranger had suggested a Jeep Rubicon. I find my Toyota does just fine, although I may add a limited slip differential someday.

The Road and a View

At the Summit

This is probably the most difficult road I have driven. Steep, narrow, and did I mention rocky? I will do it again. The history is important to me, the story of my family. I spent the afternoon on that road marveling that a 12 year old girl from flat Texas could marshal the courage to drive a wagon over that hill.

I don’t know how long the entire trip from Crested Butte to Ashcroft, 10 miles from Aspen, took the Willits family. I do know that they misjudged the time it would take to get over the highest part and did not get off the hill into Ashcroft until 11:00 PM.

That road is scary enough in daylight. At night? It is good that horses are better at seeing at night than we are. Once I got down into the timber on the Crested Butte side, the alternating sunlight and shadow made it hard to see any serious obstacles. I can just imagine what Pearl was feeling.

I have given you some history and road condition information about Pearl Pass. My next piece will be about the other big attractions. The Elk Mountains that the pass traverses are some of the most spectacular and geologically unique mountains in Colorado. Next time.

Posted in Colorado History, Colorado Mountains, Family History, Four Wheeling, Memoirs, My Story

Four Wheeling for 65 Years

Posted on September 2, 2014 by Bill Leave a comment

Camping with my Nissan 4x4 in the Maze District

Camping with my Nissan 4×4 in the Maze District

My first four wheeling memory is from deer hunting season somewhere in the early 1950’s. We were staying at a neighbor’s ranch near Douglas Pass with a large party. We went up a creek in a WWII surplus Jeep. There must have been eight or ten people on and in that Jeep. We got up high on a rough road and a front axle broke. I was too young to know much of what was going on, but I did know the Jeep was broken and we were a long way from the ranch. A couple of the men were pretty handy and managed to pull the broken axle with a Crescent wrench and a screwdriver, all the tools they had. My father was impressed and we made it back to the ranch.

Other four wheeling trips were to what is now Canyonlands National Park. I don’t remember whose Jeep we were in, but we four wheeled over Elephant Hill into Chesler Park. The Elephant Hill road is still open, but Chesler Park was closed to vehicles many years ago. My father didn’t have a four wheel drive in those years, but we went places in our 1953 Chevrolet pickup that are considered four wheel drive only these days. Many of the roads were to fishing areas on Grand Mesa.

1953 Chevy

There just were not many four wheel drive vehicles in those days, so people made do. In the Bookcliffs area, famous for slick shale roads, there were many hills with a pile of rocks at the bottom of the grade. People stopped, loaded the rocks into the bed of the two wheel drive pickup for weight, and climbed the hill and went where they wanted to go, and unloaded the rocks on the way out.

WWII and Modern Jeeps

Army surplus Jeeps became fairly common in the 1950’s, but they were fairly primitive. 35 miles per hour was about what they would do on the highway unless the owner added a Warn overdrive. They also broke a lot. I remember walking home from across the river from Fruita when the steering linkage fell apart on a surplus Jeep.

Later, in the 1970’s, four wheel drive vehicles became more common. New and modernized Jeeps, International Scouts, Broncos, Blazers, and four wheel drive pickups became fairly common. My father had two Scouts, an early Jeep Cherokee; and his first four wheeler, a 50’s Jeep wagon with a Chevy small block V8.

The first Scout got us into trouble on Elephant Hill. We were coming out after dark and as we got to the top of the hill, bouncing over the slickrock, the engine quit. It would not start, so we walked the four miles or so to the Canyonlands Resort. At that time the owner flew tourists over the canyon country, ran the resort, and flew the occasional polygamist away from the law. We waited for him to finish an enormous plate of venison and biscuits, got into his big Ford ¾ ton pickup, and went to the Scout. He towed the Scout about 50 feet and it started. The carburetor float must have stuck and the bouncing knocked it loose.

When I started buying four wheelers I got Japanese pickups. They cost less, are reliable and capable, and after all, a feller needs a truck. I just don’t like buying lots of gas for a truck. My current ride is a 2009 Toyota Tacoma 4 cylinder standard cab. Toyotas have grown, it barely fits in our new 20 foot garage.

My Taco

There are two basic types of four wheelers. There are those who four wheel to go to interesting places that require four wheel drive, and those who enjoy the sport of going to difficult places. There is overlap, but those lifted and modified vehicles are for hard core wheeling and showing off. I have a four wheel drive pickup to go places. My Tacoma is stock.

Southeastern Utah is a favorite destination for both types of four wheelers. The Moab Rally every spring brings hardcore rock crawlers from all over the country. There is so much to explore that is accessible because the uranium boom of the 1950’s brought about much road building into areas that had been horseback only.

My favorite area is the Maze District in Canyonlands National Park. 70 miles of dirt road to the ranger station, then many more miles of four wheel drive to places like the Doll House, which has access to the Colorado River just below the confluence with the Green.

This summer seems to be devoted to going over passes. I won’t name them all, but the next one is Pearl Pass. My 12 year old grandmother drove a team and wagon over that pass in 1887. I am a bit older and my team is motorized.

Posted in Four Wheeling, Memoirs, My Story