A Sentimental Journey to Louisville, Colorado

In 1952 Bob worked with his Uncle Jug on the Denver-Boulder Turnpike (US 36) and lived in Louisville, Colorado. We have visited Louisville three times, eating at the Blue Parrot, visiting a guitar shop, and walking up and down the few blocks of downtown each time. You can visit three bakeries within the two blocks of downtown, if you wish, -- surprise, surprise we didn't succumb to the pastry, cakes, or donuts. Even though the aroma of baking bread was overpowering.

We headed west and skirted above Denver back to Grand Lake along the mountain roads. Colorado has the best roads in the entire United States of America. The average speed limit through the mountains is 45 mph (not including Interstate 70). We came across Central City - a place we hadn't heard of before. It is a bustling authentic wild west town - reminded us of Deadwood, SD - with its ample supply of casinos.

Tomorrow we will leave our rental car at the Granby train depot and be on our way to Chicago. We are excited about using the sleeper roomette and eating in the dining car - so far we have just snacked as we rode the rails. Bob and are ready for the flat land views and some big city excitement. We will arrive in Chicago Sunday evening.

Rocky Mountain National Park

Bob and I set out early Friday morning to catch the sunny skies along the Timber Ridge Drive through the Rocky Mountain National Park. Years before we had driven from the opposite direction, so now we can say we've done the loop. The drive took us to the top of the world at over 12,000 feet!

Everyone paid heed to the speed limit and to the steep sides -- not a guard rail in sight! This time the only wildlife we came across were human, before we shared the road with a herd of elk at the highest point on the drive. Lots of cars were parked at the many trailheads that lead deep within the Park. One that I would like to do is hike to the headwaters of the Colorado River.

Being so high reminded me of the last time I flew from Afton to Santa Fe and we cut through the southern Rockies at 13,500 feet below the ridge lines of the peaks. The valleys were wide like a freeway routing us to the high desert of New Mexico.

Throughout the drive we were struck by mountainside after mountainside of beetle bark infested lodgepole pines. Although, I had read an article in the Grand Lake Magazine that highlighted how the lumber companies and developers are using the timber - and designers like the blue gray color of the wood. Upon entering the town of Grand Lake there is mountainside filled with piles of 'leftover' timbers, looks like a village of tepees, from the logging of the diseased trees close to town.

Rainy Day in Grand Lake

After visiting the local library and taking care of some business (received fax pages for 10 cents each) we ate at Fat Cat - really good - and the waitresses encouraged us to raise some chaos in town before we left town. Out of Bob's ear shot, I mentioned Bob had raised some hell here 58 or so years ago - they all believed he had a lot more wild times left in him to let loose.

The clouds separated and the rain fell today. We decided to wait another day to drive the Trail Ridge Road in the park, but did visit one of the visitor's centers close by. Here's a picture of Bob talking to the rangers about the 'good old days' when he worked in Grand Lake. They were so helpful and even did some research to pinpoint which project he may have worked on. He couldn't remember exactly which one it might be.

We will check out lunch at Grand Lake Lodge tomorrow, too. We had wanted to stay there, since we had remembered it from our last visit, but only the restaurant is open for lunch. The Lodge is for sale and we played the CO lottery - no joy, so I guess we won't be the next owners.

Luggage Management

After practicing walking with our luggage: one small suitcase with wheels to pull, and one computer bag, one stuffed backpack, one small soft cool bag, one small purse all divided and wrapped around our arms and necks, we were ready to pose with the following caption: 'you, too, can lug your stuff without hassle, strain or mental illness,' and begin our train trip.

As I lifted the suitcase and saddled myself down with all the straps ready to board the first train out of Salt Lake, I knew we had lost our way. I decided to look for the role model that would actually fit the above caption. The woman who was stooping between the tracks picking up an unrolled yoga mat, dropping two or three carry-on bags and wishing she were an octopus was not the one we aspired to be like. We belonged in her category, already.

No, it took a few more minutes before a couple walked by after disembarking the train (mind you, it is 4:30 in the morning) They could have been walking off the train at noon. She was carrying a small computer case and he pulled a small suitcase. That's it. Of course, there may have been explanations for their display of exceptional maturity, fashion sense, and mental health. 1. their luggage was checked in 2. they were gone overnight 3. they had a second home somewhere that housed all their stuff

In Grand Junction our goal was to catch the train with less luggage, less, hassle, and more sanity.
We purchased a $29 rolling suitcase that included another rolling duffel bag. Everything was put into the new luggage - nothing with straps, nothing to fall off, nothing to bring us to our knees as we hopped from train, to depot, into rental car or taxi, and into the hotel room and back again.

At the Grand Junction station I walked up to the check-in counter ready to say goodbye to the two bigger roll away suitcases and just carry on the smaller duffel bag that included all our train supplies, i.e. books, knitting, snacks, water. Total weight 5 pounds.

No go, the agent informed me that there would be no check-in service to Granby, our next stop - we would have to lug our luggage, anyway -- that was OK, though, the Amtrak people are very helpful with lifting the two rolling suitcases and we had banished the straps around our necks and arms. Three pieces is better than five, or six, or seven.

So, now we are ready to show we are the tourists without a neck ache, backache, or even one frenzied nerve.

Doesn't Bob look cool, calm, and collected?

Grand Lake, Colorado

Wednesday we left Mesa County, home of mesas, monuments, and memories on our way to Granby, deep in the Rocky Mountains northeast of Denver. The train was 15 minutes early - no more bad-mouthing Amtrak. Our destination was Grand Lake, 16 miles east of Granby.

The train departed Interstate 70 about two hours out of Grand Junction and headed deep into the Rockies. After living in the heart of the most beautiful part of the Rocky Mountains, it was difficult to be too excited. The scenery was nice, the river was greenish, and many mountain sides were covered with beetle infested trees. My view might be compromised as I compare the southern Rockies with the peaks, meadows, and rushing rivers that are in my backyard.

A highlight of the trip were the various sizes and plumpness of rearends as the rafters mooned the train passengers for many miles along the riverbank. Refreshing . . .

Anyway, Grand Lake was still Grand, at 8,300 feet + elevation, we are experiencing the Rocky Mountain High - Rocky Mountain National Park ridge road is over 12,000 feet. It might remind some people of Lake Tahoe fifty, a hundred years ago. There are no Holiday Inns nor Motel 6's, every building looks like its been here forever, even if constructed last year. Grand Lake is one of the oldest resort communities in Colorado and Grand Lake is the largest natural lake in the state.

Bob booked us into the Terrace Inn, a quaint three room hotel with fine dining as their selling point. We had our 25th wedding anniversary dinner last night - blowing our dining budget, fine or otherwise, for the next week. The bed is huge and very high, like saddling up - we knew we would get our exercise somewhere. During the night a groups of revelers made their way between a nearby pub and their hotel rooms down the street. To be young and reveling is another memory.

Bob and I were here about 12 years ago for a Lyle Lovett concert. Good thing we missed the concert this year, we wouldn't be able to climb up the ski slope anyway! Bob worked with his uncles here in 1952 on a construction project, Denver Boulder Turnpike (US 36), so he likes to revisit and see if his rebar is still in place.

On the train we sat amid a family group of 24 including grandma, grandpa, sons, daughters, in-laws and grandchildren ranging in ages from 4 to about 15ish. They were on a pilgrimage to Nauvoo, Illinois- a special place in LDS heritage. As we observed them coming and going, going and coming, it seemed like a fun way for a big family to do 'it' together, but glad we were only in charge of one.

Black Canyon National Park

After lunch with Kristi and goodbye hugs, we headed for Gunnison, Colorado, to round out the afternoon. We had landed in Gunnison a few times in years past as we flew coast to coast. But, Bob spotted an arrow pointing to the Black Canyon National Park - a park that was new to us. The brakes screeched with the sharp left turn we were on our way to the Black Canyon. Another gem.

The Gunnison River, like the Colorado River, has cut through the hard black rock creating a canyon deep and narrow and as inspiring as the other great canyon parks. Lots of people were there to walk to the edge - no fear allowed, but caution necessary.

We checked out the campground. There was enough room for our rv and lots of tent camping, too. At 8,000 feet it was cool and shady under the live oak trees. We have put it on our 'return to' list.

Doing Lunch With Kristi Calbert

This must have been our lucky day. We were able to hook-up with Krisiti, Bob's granddaughter, who works and lives in Norwood, Colorado, for lunch in Montrose. It was a real treat to see Krisiti and hear her talk about her life in Norwood. She's looking pretty as ever and her smile couldn't be bigger. On our next trek through Colorado we will make Norwood our destination, if Krisiti hasn't moved on. She has selected a beautiful part of the world, southwestern Colorado, to hang out and enjoy life for awhile. It seems her life is as open and free as the big sky that surrounds her in every direction, lucky lady.

Baby I Love Your Peaches

Just to the east on Interstate 70 nestled along the Colorado River is the little town of Palisade. It is the fruit basket of western Colorado and soon to be the wine barrel for the entire southwest. One of the locals we have talked to (although downtown we have only met 'out-of-towners'), told us the peaches are "coming in."

Our mouths were watering before we jumped out of the car in front of a fruit stand filled with bushels of just picked peaches. I tasted the samples to make sure they were as good and juicy as the ones I picked with Grandma a long time ago - funny how you never forget what really tastes good. Bingo - the memories came alive.

The juice ran off our chins and no pie or cobbler could top the natural sweetness we tasted this afternoon. We've saved two plumb ripe peaches - they don't make these in Wyoming -for tomorrow - but we may have to make another stop before the train leaves town on Wednesday.

Colorado National Monument - Monumental

Colorado National Monument - Monumental

Grand Junction lies in a green valley surrounded by a bowl of giant red rock mesas. The Colorado National Monument is a short drive out of town and into another world of rock, flora, and fauna. Unlike the Grand Canyon, which I thought could not be topped, visitors can climb, hike, stand up against the giant cliffs that the Colorado River carved millenniums ago without planning a major hike. The monument consists of 23 miles on the Rimrock Road that winds around the canyons with many turnouts for photos and meditation. Trails lead over, around, and to the bottom of the canyons.

The crowd was sparse if you don't count the many downhill bikers that were cruising with the wind. We were glad they were going the opposite direction. In fact, not one uphill biker was spotted.

As I drove and stopped and drove some more then slowed down to look again, I felt the strength of the rock, calm and solid.

A City That Gives . . . Grand Junction

The poem was painted on a black cylinder in front of our favorite outdoor pizza place, Pablo's. The line that sticks is . . .

"a city that gives room for codgers with

canes . . .''

Bob might decide to miss the next train out of Grand Junction!

Downtown Grand Junction gives a lot more than room for all of us. Main Street is bordered by wide sidewalks, leaving a narrow strip for the street. Walking is definitely encouraged. Although, benches are plentiful surrounded by flowers and sculptures. As we strolled the few blocks of 'downtown' we found twelve outdoor cafes, three bike shops, hip clothing stores, an artist coop, bookstore - enough town for anyone.

The special room that the Grand Junction citizens give to its artists is what we will remember. Every few yards an original sculpture is displayed to touch, photograph, and delight in while walking, doing business, or just hanging out. The artists donate their works and are for sale to the public. Over the years more than a million dollars of art has been sold. New works are displayed every year. Most of the artists are local or based in the West. The citizens vote for one piece to be purchased by the town and is on permanent display for all to enjoy.

Grand Junction is the first stop on our trip and we have voted it #1, so far. Any place that makes room for codgers and artists is a place to visit again.

Salt Lake City to Grand Junction

We know three things for sure: 1. Never assume the GPS directions are the truth , especially in the middle of 'road work', 2. Do not think you can out think the GPS and find the Salt Lake City Amtrak Station at 3:00 a.m. without some serious recalculation on every one's part. 3. It isn't such a bad thing for the train to be an hour late.

About 25 sleepy travelers were squeezed into the plastic chairs surrounded by piles of stuff when we arrived to check in. No one was awake enough to make any noise. Very quiet. A very friendly agent handed us our tickets - all the way to Milwaukee - talking only in whispers. I parked the Jeep in a well-lighted parking lot free and with no time limit. Bob's plans are working.

You might think that a trainload of sleepy, exhausted travelers would be able to sleep under any conditions. Well, there no discomforts to overcome and it seemed all slept like contented babies - or a bunch of dead people were on board.

We sat in coach seats, opting for sleeper roomettes on the longer legs of our journey, and slept like babies after the excitement wore off . The rails were smooth, no clanging, clacking, nor chugging, and no one was willing to break the silence. Around 9 am people started to move a little, but still very quietly. There were many solo women on board. It seemed like a very safe way to travel. The bathrooms were clean, too.

The conductor, assistants, and food service personnel were very accommodating and willing to share information. The crew works 6 days on 8 eight days off. Iowa is always a trouble spot - dealing with rain - they heard today that it had poured 10 inches! - which might mean the tracks are underwater and the passengers would be bused to destinations. The workers get to fly home! Most of those we talked to were based in Chicago and did the the Chicago to Emeryville run.

Bob took a walk and found the observation car, which we will head for first on our next leg from Grand Junction to Gramby through some awesome Colorado canyons.

As we crossed the Utah/Colorado border, the mesas loomed close and personal. We had to crane our necks to see the sky. Like zooming past El Capitan, the faces of the cliffs were smooth and made a powerful statement, they've been here forever and aren't leaving soon. Soon, red rock sculptures filled with spirit and images were impressed into the facades. This would be a great place to hike and contemplate. - even along the train tracks.

Arrived in Grand Junction at 11:40 am, an hour late, and hot. The depot had a western welcome feel - no blue plastic chairs. The Budget/Avis car rental guy was there to meet us and take us to the airport to pick up our car. The airport was pretty impressive, too. We are in the Hampton Inn, downtown, and plan - after a nap and shower to take a walk. There are plenty of shops, outdoor restaurants, and green spots dotted with quaint sculptures to explore.

In the first brochure I picked up in the hotel lobby, I read that the driving time to Salt Lake City is 4 hours! The train had 3 stops between Salt Lake and Grand Junction, totalling less than 15 minutes for all the stops. Time is not a priority on this trip.

Ready to Hop Aboard

The checklist is complete, the bags are packed. We are taking a small suitcase; packed with 50% less clothes than we think we need, with wheels; a backpack, loaded with shoes, for lots of walking; and the computer bag, stuffed with a new computer we hope to learn how to use before the trip is over.

It felt funny to say to my biking buddies, ". . . goodbye and see you in September."

Bob is taking a nap storing up some energy for the trip. He likes the idea that he will not be the driver (backseat or otherwise) and I agree. He can snooze whenever, wherever he wants.

Orient Express vs Calbert Express

I watched Agatha Christie's Murder On the Orient Express starring the little Belgian detective Mr. Hercule Poirot. I imagined myself as a passenger and, possibly even a suspect, on that infamous train as it chugged through snowy Eastern Europe. Will Bob and I find a similar adventure on our train trip through the midwestern prairie?

I can bet Amtrak will not provide the following:
1.Luxurious sleeping quarters with candy on our pillows nor freshly cut flowers in a Waterford vase
2.Beef Wellington, souffle, or cherries jubilee on the menu
3.A personal steward who delivers breakfast on a silver tray
4.The need for formal wear to dress for dinner
5.A price tag that will necessarily break the bank (but, all things are relative)

Here are a few similarities I predict:
1.Historical significance - the train in the USA came after feet, horseback, and the covered wagon
2.I am sure there's a famous story set on an Amtrak Train (I just haven't found it)
3.Restrooms are down the hall - (no shower on the Orient Express!)
4.The opportunity to observe the passengers. Who are they? Why are they here? Where are they going, where have they been? Who done it?

There is nothing to stop Bob and I becoming a team of sleuths. After all, we have Mr. Poirot's 'little gray cells' to assist in any mayhem we stumble onto during our travels.

When and Where We Will Be

Here's a run down of when and where we will go on our trip:

7/25 Depart Salt Lake City to Grand Junction
7/28 Depart Grand Junction to Gramby,CO
7/31 Depart Gramby, CO to Chicago
8/6 Depart Chicago to Milwaukee
8/10 Depart Milwaukee to St.Paul
8/14 Depart St. Paul to Whitefish, MT
8/21 Depart Whitefish,MT to Everett, WA
8/25 Depart Everett,WA to Portland
8/28 Depart Portland to Klamath Falls, OR
8/29 Depart Klamath, OR to Sacramento
9/2 Depart Sacramento to Reno
9/6 Depart Reno Arrive Salt Lake City 9/7

Why 45 Days?

I asked Bob why he planned the train trip for 45 days. His reply, "Your cooking!"
He had read the last entry.

Actually, it all began when he found out that Amtrak offered a 45 day train pass with 18 stops. He arranged the entire trip and then decided to plan his own trip - he kept the 45 days in tact. Also, he wanted to go to Glacier in the summer, so he decided to take the big loop and not wait until the fall to get on board. Our only regret, so far, is to leave our friends and Star Valley during the summer - it is the best place on earth during June, July, and August.

No Cooking Just Tripping

After pigging out on Bob's homemade German chocolate birthday cake, I realized that in a few weeks I will be off kp duty for six weeks! This is not the first time I have been released from the dilemma of what to riddle up in the kitchen. In 2003 I flew the Bonanza to Florida, then drove 5,000 miles during the next five weeks throughout the southeast. We fulfilled one of our main objectives: eat a catfish dinner in every county we cruised through. Along with the catfish we couldn't get enough of the creamy grits and crispy hushpuppies. Our waistlines were proof we didn't miss meals and we didn't regret the time missed fixing our own meals.

In 2004 we spent five months in Alaska working in Denali Park. We were blessed with a one room cabin without cooking facilities. We dined in a cafeteria with very strict eating times. So, raiding the refrigerator during the midnight hours was not part of our routine. The chef's efforts received no complaints from us - in Bob's words, "ummmm, that's mooseturd pie - but it SURE IS GOOD!" It's all good when you don't have to be the cook, just sit and eat.

Again, we are eager to taste the specialities of the cities we'll be visiting. A part of our adventure will be seeking the best slice of Chicago pizza, the true Milwaukee bratwurst washed down with a brewsky, and maybe find some rhubarb in St. Paul. We will begin with good intentions having learned from past experience that we eat too much. But, we all know, need and want are two different life choices. Bob has planned down to the last detail, including notes on our itinerary to purchase veggie snack trays to satisfy our gluttoneous tendencies.

No matter, I'll relish the reprieve away from the kitchen and enjoy every bite.