<< Day 9: Moab to Silverton | Day 11: Silverton to Bandelier National Monument >>
Silverton
The plan for today was to rent a 4x4 jeep and drive portions of what is known as the “Alpine Loop”, covering narrow dirt roads that wind up into the mountains past abandoned mines and an old “ghost town.” In 1860, gold was discovered by prospectors in this area, and the surrounding mountains now contain abundant remains from the mining boom.
Our jeep was a soft top that had an open back.
As we were preparing to leave, a woman from a neighboring RV site came over and suggested that we bring extra jackets and even blankets. She said that she had done the Alpine Loop yesterday and had been freezing over the high mountain pass. We took her advice and brought along two blankets for Genevieve and Sebastian. I wore two jackets.
Here is the view of the waterfall near our RV site:
We drove through downtown Silverton to get to the Alpine Loop. Here is The Pickle Barrel, which had those delicious desserts we devoured last night.
City Hall:
Another interesting building:
A view of Silverton as we head toward the mining area:
Our first sighting of a “mining” relic--an old ore processing station:
We drove along the Animas River:
The Iowa-Tiger mill could process 150 tons of ore each day.
This photo shows one of the most important innovations for a miner—the aerial tram.
Most of the mines were located above the timber line, and the miners could ride the aerial tram across the river and up the snowy mountains to reach their sites during the winter. This mode of transportation allowed them to work year-round and to keep the local economy somewhat stable.
Genevieve and Sebastian looked happy in the backseat:
We could see a mountain peak with snowy patches in the distance. If there were still snow in June during our visit, then the peak must be completely covered during the winter months.
We turned down a side road that crossed over the river at Howardsville, which had been founded in 1874 by George Howard, a prospector. The town had survived into the 1940’s, but now only had a few buildings:
Our side road followed Cunningham Creek.
We soon came to a fork in the road—the low road tracked the creek, and the high road climbed upward. Hmmm. The high road seemed more appealing—an upward journey and the promise of a better view.
The road led past some mining ruins.
And then it arrived at a renovated former gold mine that offered tours; we opted to pass on the tour and continued forward, down the hill, and connected with the low road.
As we wound our way along the creek, we saw a small, chubby, brown animal. It looked like a beaver, without the flat tail. It was carrying a mouthful of dried grass, presumably to use in building a house or nest. We saw quite a few of these animals today, scampering across the road. We later found out that it was a marmot.
We entered a beautiful valley called “Cunningham Gulch”. We decided that it should have been called “Waterfall Valley” because of all the cascading waterfalls on both sides of the gulch. Genevieve and Sebastian helped count eleven waterfalls.
We passed by what looked like someone’s former home:
At the end of the road, there was a pretty waterfall. We stopped to get a closer view.
One last waterfall photo:
We arrived back at Howardsville and officially began the “Alpine Loop”:
We passed a small herd of llamas (which stimulated us to come up with rhymes concerning llamas and their mamas in pajamas acting in dramas . . .).
To our left, the Animas River had flattened out and contained evidence of beavers, including this large beaver lodge:
We stopped briefly to read about the former town of Eureka.
In 1873, gold was discovered in a mine that was several thousand feet above Eureka. A mill was built in Eureka, and the miners devised a method to transport the ore down to the mill via a cable tramway. In 1917, a larger mill replaced the first one; you can still see the foundation of that mill against the hill in the two photos below. The mill processed 1000 tons of ore each day. The mine and mill closed in 1938, and the town was subsequently abandoned.
We crossed the river and began a gently sloped ascent.
Down below was the Eureka Lodge, which was built in the 1920’s as a miner’s boarding house. It is on the National Register of Historic places, and serves as one of the best preserved examples of an early 1900's mining boarding hotel found in the west. The current owners spent 10 years renovating it, and the lodge is now open for guests.
This old mining area had a building that was constructed on top of tall wooden stilts.
This dilapidated wooden suspension bridge was dangling above the river:
Someone had tried to create a small wooden dam across the river:
We looked up the hill in front of us and could see the zig-zag switchbacks that we would be soon be driving.
But first we detoured to visit the “ghost town” of Animas Forks, which was originally established in 1880. The elevation here was 11,160 feet. There were a number of buildings that had been preserved and restored.
Genevieve and Sebastian had fun exploring the Duncan House, which was built in 1879. It was also known as the “bay window house.” The owner, William Duncan, was a miner and a mail carrier in the Animas Fork area.
Historians believe that this house was built by storekeeper John Gustavson in 1907.
Other buildings in Animas Forks:
Whoever built this house, with its doors all perfectly aligned in a row, did not believe in the power of feng shui.
The old mill area:
The view down the mountain was quite impressive:
After we had fully explored Animas Forks, we continued on our way, making a turn up the hill—our goal was to climb to Engineer Pass at almost 13,000 feet.
The kids had really enjoyed Animas Forks.
A sign informed us that we had reached the “tundra” area. Tundra, which is a vast treeless area that has a permanently frozen subsoil, is only found in the Arctic and isolated high mountain ranges. Because of the shallow topsoils and severe winters, the plant life has a very short growing season. The tundra also is fragile and can take up to a hundred years to heal if damaged.
The surrounding tundra:
A close-up of the grass layer:
We passed this old cabin and adjacent mine, built by some hearty soul (who could withstand exceptionally cold temperatures):
The road behind, with its incredible view:
The road ahead—you can see the faint lines of our road twisting up the mountain:
We climbed further, up and up.
The single lane road was pretty freaky at times, especially with the hairpins, rocks and lumps, and sheer dropoff. It made the road from Ouray look like a freeway. I am used to riding my dirt bike along much worse conditions than this; I think that it is harder to be a “passenger” because you don’t have control over where the vehicle is going. That said, Ben is a skilled and safe driver, and I had complete confidence in his ability to maneuver us to the top of the pass and back.
There was a brisk wind blowing, with bits of mineral dust. (I had a metallic taste in my mouth from the air.) The children spent this time huddled completely under their blankets.
Genevieve and Sebastian did pop out to touch the snow on the high banks that we passed. I expected the snow to be hard and crusty, but it was soft and stuck together really well—great for a snowball fight!
I couldn’t take my eyes off of the surrounding beauty—I had never seen anything like it:
We stopped briefly at “Oh” lookout.
The man who rented us our jeep said that the name stood for “Oh, my God” because of the beautiful scenery. The scenery WAS magnificent. However, the wind was wickedly icy, and the children wouldn’t budge from under their blankets. The “Oh” for them was probably more like “Oh please let this end soon!”
I was taking a look at the reddish mountain with the zig-zag path up it—an obvious road. I was thinking (perhaps even . . . hoping) that it couldn’t be our road. A closer inspection with the zoom lens on my camera revealed that the road was completely blocked with snow in parts. Since no one had mentioned blocked roads when discussing the drive to Engineer Pass this morning, I let out a sigh of relief.
We pushed forward to Engineer Pass. It was just a few more turns down the road.
At last, we arrived!
The mountain pass had a large exhibit plaque that paid respect to the Ute Native Americans who inhabited this area during the initial onslaught of prospectors, and whose land was shamefully taken by the U.S. Government.
The exhibit contained a 1879 quote about the Utes in the Denver Times: “Either they or we must go, and we are not going . . . The Western Empire is an inexorable fact. He who gets in the way of it must be crushed.” Diagrams showed the vast extent of land in Colorado, Utah and northern New Mexico, where the Ute had lived before 1860. Many miners knowingly encroached upon Ute land in staking their claims. The Ute, led by Chief Ouray, lost most of their homeland through various “agreements” with the U.S. Government. The exhibit diagrams showed the two tiny (miniscule, really) parcels of land where the Ute reservations are today.
The children got out of the jeep to run around a bit, but they soon returned to their blanket cocoons.
Staring at all the mountain peaks in the distance, I felt that I was near the top of the world. I took a panoramic series of photos, stretching from left to right:
The scenery was spectacular. I have traveled to many beautiful places in the world, and I have to say that the surrounding tundra, with the patches of snow and mountains that stretched all around for miles and miles, was the most beautiful thing that I have ever seen (other than the faces of my children, and the deep brown eyes of my husband).
Ready to return!
Descending the mountain, we met a lot of jeeps on their way up. The rule is that the upward vehicle has the right away, so we always found a safe spot to pull over (sometimes by backing up) and letting the other vehicle squeeze by. All of the other drivers we met today were very considerate.
The road back:
As we traveled lower in elevation, the wind diminished some, and the children poked their heads from under their blankets. They perked up considerably at the prospect of hot chocolate and marshmellows back at the RV.
These flowers greeted us when we reached the warm air in the Animas Valley.
When we arrived at our campground, we found the Durango/Silverton train backing up the track, getting ready to load passengers.
We had packed a picnic lunch, but it had been too cold and windy to eat anywhere along the way. We were starving. We ate our lunch, along with hot chocolate, in the windless warmth of our RV. We then rested for an hour, napping or just relaxing.
We enjoyed a mellow evening. For me, the intensity of the jeep trip had totally quenched every thirsty “adventure” cell in my body—I was in “relax and process the experience” mode. We all spent time doing various independent activities: reading, doing puzzles, writing stories, playing Nintendo, doing laundry, and cleaning the RV.
Genevieve came to sit beside me in the laundry room. I was writing, and she was doing word puzzles. It makes my heart sing that she just wants to “hang out” with me.
We drifted off to sleep tonight with the sound of raindrops falling on the roof.
<< Day 9: Moab to Silverton | Day 11: Silverton to Bandelier National Monument >>
Back to Index Page
Back to Home Page
