Colorado 2023 - Day 6

Photo by: Tim Bindner

Day 6: June 18, 2023

This would be our last full day in our Airbnb and in this part of Colorado. We would be returning to a place we had been to before (almost) but visiting an amazing sight.

Today’s drive would span 108 miles total and take me to a very uncomfortable place. One, however, Marcie loved.

Leaving our ‘home’ we drove briefly east on Highway 162 before merging onto Highway 285 heading south for 21 miles. It was early Sunday morning and traffic was almost non-existent. At the light, we turned left onto Highway 50, then quickly and left, continuing Highway 50 before turning right into the parking lot of Robin’s. I had the French toast and water, and Marcie had eggs and sausage, I believe. We arrived a few minutes before they opened and after entering and ordering within a few minutes, there was a long line to get in.

I drove east on Highway 50 for another 54 miles. A route we had done on the previous day. The sun was still low on the horizon, but made beautiful shadows and light on the steep cliffs of the canyon we were navigating through. Soon we approached and passed SR 9 on our left and within a few miles, turned right onto SR 3A. This would lead us to the parking lot of the Royal Gorge Bridge & Park in Canon City, Colorado.

The park and chief attraction of the bridge didn’t open for another 15 minutes after we arrived. We parked, walked to the observatory, and took a few pictures. After we meandered down to the front doors, and I grabbed a pamphlet that told of this soon to be 1,257-foot wooden bridge that was suspended at 956 feet above the Arkansas River. Marcie and I sat and waited until the doors opened, and we went inside to pay our admission fee.

Once paid, we walked outside and down a slight slope toward the bridge. As I approached, I could see the canyon disappearing in the depths below me. The 18-foot-wide bridge seemed small. The wooden planks I was walking on seemed solid, but left enough gaps between each that I panicked. I have always been afraid of heights, but as I age, it gets worse. I took the innermost part of the bridge as my route. My wife walked from one side to the other, looking down and all around with amazement. Several thoughts of falling, dropping my rental car keys and of course the boards breaking below my feet, filled my brain. I struggled to push the thoughts away and concentrated on my breathing and staring at my feet and each board I was stepping on.

My pace quickened as I told Marcie, “Take your time. I will see you at the end.” Each step I took, I felt the boards creek, and the bridge sway oh so slightly. This did not help my anxiety at all. I made it to the other side by focusing on the bridge below me and trying not to look between the cracks in each board. As I stepped onto concrete on the other side of the bridge, a wave of relief swept over me. I looked up and saw a group of long-horned rams that were sitting on the side of a rock wall before me. They looked like a zoo display, but these were real and just laying there napping. Marcie soon joined me, taking pictures of the rams. We milled around that area and then started back across the bridge.

Like the previous trip, I became filled with anxiety. I looked at my watch and my heart rate was 128. This is where things got even better for me (sarcasm). Older or mobility impaired people who cannot cross the bridge on foot can be driven across in UTV’s by park rangers. A great and noble gesture with the park service. However, when these vehicles cross the bridge, it does three things. First, it amplifies the popping of the boards and pings in the cables holding up this large structure underneath the weight of the tires. Next, it causes additional movement of the bridge. Vibration, swaying and shifting of the boards that was felt across all 1,200+ feet of the structure. Finally, they drive down the middle. I told myself, in a repeating mantra in my head, it was safe for the vehicles to cross the bridge, despite the noise and movement I heard and felt. The last point I could not justify, no matter how hard I tried. Not once, not twice, not three times, but four times I was face to face with these Toro UTVs. I was walking down the middle of the bridge and they were coming at me down the middle of the bridge.

Ultimately, I won none of the faceoffs, but one ranger stopped and asked if I was okay. I guess she saw the fear in my face. She said, “honey, just step to the side a slight bit and stop. I will drive around you and you can get back in the middle.” I followed her command with likely a terrified smile of thanks. Each encounter that day, I followed the same command. Moved uncomfortably to the side. Stopped. Waited for the vehicle to pass. Then resume my safe spot in the middle of the bridge before hastily walking to the end of it.

As I completed the bridge, I sat on the side, waiting for Marcie to return. I was sitting on a solid rock with my feet firmly on concrete. I read a sign that explained that the bridge was being held up by 4100 cables, which would have been more comforting if I had seen this on the way across rather than on the return.

Marcie met me, and we headed back toward the car. To our right, we saw a gondola going back and forth across the gorge. They were empty as rides started at 10am and they were ‘testing’ it. I also sat and watched a worker strap on his zipline gear and scurry out about 25 feet to get an empty harness that had been sent across from the other side, but not quite made it all the way to where the attraction began. My stomach dropped as I watched this unfold. NOPE!

As we reached our car, the parking lot was almost full. I was glad we arrived when we had. Any later, the people and UTV’s might have been too much for me. I would not have had ‘the middle’ to myself. What I could see in this place was beautiful, and glad Marcie enjoyed the scenery and watching her husband freak out, yet survive.

On our way back SR 3a we stopped to get some bottled water and a snack at this little, tiny store called The Market. Might I say this was the cleanest restroom I have ever seen? I commented this to the worker and her response was “we hear that a lot.” The oatmeal raisin cookie I got was also one of the best, if not the best, I have ever eaten.

We drove back on Highway 50 to Salida, where we stopped for lunch. Stoke BBQ was our choice, and it didn’t disappoint. I had the BBQ brisket and fries. Marcie had BBQ pork and fries. We drove home, then rested before ending the day in Buena Vista. I bought a map, and we had our last supper at Simple Eatery. I had steak stroganoff and sweet tea. Marcie had a simple green salad, grilled cheese, and water.

I sat out on a gravel patio. A dog lay there and barked when his owner went inside, all under a sun umbrella. I also reflected on the trip. The beauty of this place, the memories Marcie and I made. The places we saw and may never see again, and this wonderful trip and locations most people will never know of or go to. Our exploration took us to non-touristy places, and that was my goal. Many of which had none or little people there. Just me and my wife.

I hope to visit and explore Colorado again. I have loved Nova Scotia, Wisconsin, Michigan, Wyoming, Tennessee, and North Carolina, but Colorado takes it all for me. Without hesitation, I would move there. There are mountains, rivers, forests (Aspen trees), and fresh air. It will never happen, but a man can dream.

Links to the places I referenced are below.

Until next time,

Tim

Robins – https://www.robinssalida.com/menu

Royal Gorge Bridge & Park – https://royalgorgebridge.com/

The Market – https://www.facebook.com/themarketcanoncity/

Stoke BBQ – https://stokesalida.com/

Simple Eatery – https://places.singleplatform.com/simple-eatery–spoon-it-up/menu?ref=google

Latitude 40 Maps – https://www.latitude40maps.com/store/salida-buena-vista-trails/