It’s three o’clock in the morning and the dog is shaking. He’s sleeping on a blanket near my side of the air mattress. I grab my hoody and cover him. He falls back asleep. I’m sure glad one of us can fall asleep so quickly. Hmmm, nature calls. I reluctantly throw off the two layers of sleeping bags and scurry to the foot of the air mattress to put on my tennies. No need to throw on clothes, since I’ve been sleeping fully clothed, i.e. sweatpants and sweatshirt. It’s cold at three in the morning camped at 10,000 feet.
I quietly unzip the tent and crawl out. I’m awestruck with the most incredible vision. The stars and crescent moon are so vivid and bright. I have no trouble seeing around the campsite. I stand there and just take in the beauty before I’m reminded as to why I’m standing outside the tent at three in the morning shivering. This is serious Bear and Mountain Lion country. I take care of “business” just three feet from the tent. I have no intention of being someone’s midnight snack, and I’m sorry, but that trumps someone seeing my crescent moon! I once again stand there admiring the sky before crawling back into a nice warm bed.
It’s 5:30 in the morning and I’ve renamed Bear…..”damn dog”. (ya know I love him and wouldn’t trade him for the world, but he wants a walk at 5:30 in the morning in the frickn cold) Damn dog and I go for a stroll, not venturing too far from our campsite. I’m the only two-legged creature out and about. Did I already mention we’re in serious Bear, as in Black, Brown country? The garbage containers are heavily locked and Bear proofed. It reminds me of the safety lids on medications. In other words, it’s a royal pain in the a*s to get open just to throw your garbage away. I’m on alert. “Hurry up, damn dog”. Finally “business” complete, we return to the warmth of sleeping bags.
It’s seven o’clock and the sun is rising. We hear other campers in the distance. Al awakes and informs me how great he slept (damn husband). Sleep deprived wife informs damn husband and damn dog, “We’re going into town for breakfast. I need a cup of strong, black coffee”.
I drive around Crested Butte looking for a place for breakfast. Finally Al has me stop, he jumps out of the truck and walks over to a pretty blond lady watering flowers. He and the blond chuckle (do I really care?). He proceeds to tell me to drive up Elk Street three blocks. Blond says McGills serves a good breakfast. Good breakfast yes, but amazingly good coffee.
Two cups of coffee later, we’re back to “dear husband” and “cute, adorable dog”. Al and I discuss exploration options, but first it’s time for a little retail therapy. It’s still a little early and shops aren’t open yet. That’s ok, I’m on the hunt and need to survey my prey.
We enter a T-shirt shop. I’m on a mission. Al and Bear head over to the counter, yes this is dog friendly country and dogs are welcome everywhere except inside restaurants. Al strikes up a conversation with the young man behind the counter. We’re the only ones in the store and when the young man realizes I drive a Toyota Tacoma and we’re there to explore the back country, he excitedly shares his knowledge and passion of the area. He drives a Toyota 4-Runner (sister to the Tacoma…lol) and recommends a scenic loop drive. He gives us a couple of heads up warnings and what we might encounter. He gives us a complimentary map and points out everything on the map for us. Two T-shirts later, that’s enough retail therapy for me. I’m ready to explore.
We head up Slate River Road, just north of the town of Crested Butte. As usual, the pavement ends quickly. We pass some beautiful homes early in the journey. As we start to climb in elevation and the road starts to narrow, we encounter campers and ATVer’s.
BUT most importantly, I finally start seeing some wildflowers. Up to this point I begin to wonder, “Wildflower capital of Colorado”? Say what? Still not impressed, but I have an open mind. The scenery is spectacular. I drive so I don’t drive Al crazy with my many photo-op stops. “Stop here, no I meant there. Why don’t you listen to me?” I think you get the picture. Besides Al says, “I like being chauffeured around by a pretty lady”. Ah, ain’t that sweet!
We continue up Slate River Road. It’s narrow but in pretty good condition. Geez, I hope no one comes down this road. Yes, it’s a two-way road. This, my friends, is why we drove the Tacoma in lieu of the F-250. As a former flatlander, this kind of road would’ve scared the sh*t out of me years ago. Now it just scares the p*ss out of me.
We pass the turn for Washington Gulch Road and continue toward Schofield Pass. “Boy, could this road get even narrower?” I comment to Al. We come around a blind switch back and encounter a truck loaded with people. Kind of like an open air safari get up. Hmmmm, I back up and get us as close to the side of the mountain as possible (haha, I got the inside). The driver comments, “thanks, we got’er”, and passes by me. He’s the one on the outer edge. One slip, and down they go. Tourists all clap once we’ve successfully passed, and we’re all on our way again. This is the Wildflower Festival after all and there’s all kinds of tours and activities planned throughout the week.
We’re on the other side of Mt. Baldy now and we stop for a much-needed break. The scenery is breathtaking. Al checks his phone and is shocked. “It works!” No cell reception at the campground, but up here it works. He snaps a couple of quick pictures and sends to his sisters.
I decide I’ve had enough thrill for the day and have concern about venturing any further. After all, the guy at the T-shirt shop said it’ll get rougher from this point. “But your truck can handle it”. It’s not the truck I’m worried about. Al’s having such a good time, he leaves the decision up to me.
We head back to the Washington Gulch turn, all the while I pray I won’t have to pass anyone. That would put me on the outside edge…yikes! Fortunately my prayers are answered, we don’t meet another vehicle for quite some time. Washington Gulch Road does present its own challenges………….