The San Juans of Southwest Colorado are dramatic mountains. Glacier-carved, they are steep and rugged, and snow covered until July. This was May. I arose early and drove back up to sensational Lizard Head Pass and Trout Lake. I wanted to hike up into the snow to the base of Lizard Head Peak, maybe 12000-13000 feet up. I figured I would just walk on top of the snow and I would bring my mini crampons just in case. But first I needed a map.
Almost as if the Big Horned Sheep called the storm, rain and then snow began to fall gently as I drove up the high mountain passes to get to the other side of the San Juans. But the temperature was just above freezing so nothing stuck to the road and I made it up and down the winding roads safely. I stopped briefly in Silverton, the largest town on that side, but it felt like a ghost town, sad in its emptiness, so I drove south hoping to find a suitable campsite.
I continued down the scenic road to the Mountain Village, a luxury ski resort, but it was shut for the season. I then drove on to Telluride, a popular ski resort town, where I found an outfitter with a map. Map in hand, I drove back to Lizard Head Pass and started my hike! After fifteen minutes, the trail went through a forest, with foot-high-plus piles of snow. I started sinking in the snow almost waist deep (this is called post holing). I was making hilariously slow progress and I was gasping for air at this high altitude (it takes several days for your body to adjust) so I decided to backtrack and go to a lower elevation. Pics of Lizard Head Pass, close-by Trout Lake and Mountain Village.
Rain fell intermittently as I drove farther north on the scenic road toward the Dallas Divide, another famous high pass. I turned off the main road to explore the Last Dollar Road and was treated to mile after mile of millionaire ranches with billionaire views. Few people seemed home and the roads were quiet and the vistas grand.
I continued up past some more mountain towns to Ridgeway and then Ouray, eventually going east in order to go back south down the other side of the San Juan Mountains. Just after passing Ouray, I began to climb a crazy-narrow highway when I saw three Big Horned Sheep on the road. I stopped and got a pic of one just before it climbed up the sheer cliff above the road.
But with the rain pouring down and the forest getting more private ski-resort-ish as I descended, no suitable campsites were found. I drove all the way to Walmart in the city of Durango, hoping I could camp there. I was met with two huge disappointments: giant Walmart signs saying no overnight camping: you will be towed and a cold and wet mattress and pillows, drenched when my water container had fallen. And it was raining. And it was getting dark. And I had a bad sour throat and a developing cold, both likely from altitude sickness. So I bought a hotel room. I took the mattress and pillows inside, took a half hour hot shower and watched mindless TV until I fell deeply asleep.
The hot shower was calling, I know.
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