Thursday, July 15, 1999
Hello from the Western Slope. We are on the other side of the San Juan Mountains. The distance from our cabin at Lake City (the eastern side) to the other side of the mountain (the western side) is about 30 miles as the crow flies. Since Edith and I can’t fly like a crow (she sort of made an attempt at it the other day when we were stopped to look at the waterfall), we drove about 200 miles to Ouray. This also was an important mining region and is located on the “Million Dollar Highway”. This highway was built by Otto Mears and was carved out of the mountains from Ouray to Silverton and beyond.
It’s some drive. I will say little more since I have pledged to whine no more. Silverton had many nice shops and is an end-point for the popular Durango to Silverton Railway, powered by steam locomotives. We retraced our steps to Ouray and headed for Telluride. During the 1890’s, some miners called it “To Hell You Ride” because of the difficult passage through the mountains. Things are better now and the drive was a pleasant one. There were even guardrails on the side of the hilly roads.
Edith had made reservations at a bed-and-breakfast and once more "did good". It’s a really neat place, just 100 yards from the lifts and located next to a stream (I can hear the water running over the boulders as I type). It’s at two levels with the beds upstairs and a very nice living area downstairs. There are two balconies with a great view of the mountains, and we are located on a major bike trail.
We greeted the couple in the next apartment as they were checking in. They were tall and slender and she had bright red toenails, and he had designer shorts and a European cycling cap with sunglasses perfectly perched on the brim. Hey, if that’s the way they dress in Telluride, this Ohio boy can show them a thing or two. I pulled out my Izod shirt, J.C. Penny khakis and the clunky brown shoes I wear when cutting grass. I will soon go shopping, looking for bright red nail polish (for Edith of course).
We take things for granted, don’t we? It’s hard to find a phone in Lake City and we were tickled that we had one in our room tonight. We talked to Edith’s Mom and our two boys. But, for some reason, we could not connect to our Email. They’re starting to pile up. Damn, I might have to start writing post cards.