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| One for the boys |
I am beginning to lose the plot. First
we wondered why the locals were having a bank holiday with schools and
factories closed on a Thursday only to discover some days later that it had
been a weekend. Then we have been happily bimbling around unaware that we had
entered a new time zone or even that central mountain time existed. Still, who
cares if one is going senile as long as one is having fun.
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Gateway Arch - St Louis
This is big, there are people in a "tram" up there. |
After leaving the Ohio river we headed
for the Mississippi and St Louis, fancying a bit of city life and culture. One
of the most interesting and spectacular features is an arch called Gateway to
the West. It appears in countless photos and in them looks – well – there.
Actually it is most impressive and is the highest man-made
sculpture/memorial/object in America at 630 feet. One can go up it in a “tram”
and peer out of the windows at the top for a considerable fee – we didn’t.
Underground beneath it is the (free) Museum of Westward Expansion. It is well
worth a visit and has a particularly good section on the Lewis and Clark
expedition of 1803 – 1806. If you haven’t read about these two, then I urge you
to do so.
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Cathedral Basilica St Louis - this is THE most amazing RC church.
It is covered in mosaics and is awe-inspiring (presumably the point).
All this in the photo is gold; the whole thing must have cost millions.
If I had been in charge I would have put a bit less up and given a bit more loot to the poor and starving. |
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| Leroy Pierson - the house band |
Our other spot of culture in St Louis
was food and drink in a live music bar near the Soulard district. We chose “BBs
Blues, Jazz and Soup Bar” for no other reason than it was close to where we
could park and we stumbled across it. The music was great and featured the
relatively unknown Voodoo Blues Band who were jolly good. They were not
improved by being joined by the mainline, or is it headline, of the evening –
Roland Johnson. He was a rather pleased-with-himself black man who spent more
time talking than singing. I think in the less polite atmosphere of a Brit
equivalent place, he may have been heckled. The Nav (who knows about these
things) thought he reminded her of Tom Jones. The food could be described as
Glasgow/Cajun fusion with deep fried ravioli amongst other delights. Almost
next door to BBs was an establishment called The Angry Beaver but the Nav
wouldn’t let me go in there. Despite this, the evening was perfected by the
discovery of a new source of free overnight parking – Sam’s Club. They are
especially good as they are not open all night and so are peaceful.
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Successfully navigated us
to the Berlin Wall |
After the fleshpots of St Louis, we girded our loins for the allegedly boring trip
across the prairie. Actually, we loved it. On the map, seemingly in the middle
of nowhere, we saw “Winston Churchill memorial”; we had to go and have a look.
We were expecting a smallish statue or something similar (a plaque, perhaps)
but no! There was a statue but also a large and detailed museum, the National W-C Museum, no less. (Actually
I have to presume it was detailed [the
entrance was] as we didn’t go in. I tried The English bit, The Veteran bit,
The-I’ve-been-decorated-by-the-Queen bit but none of them worked, they wanted a
fortune from us both and NO discounts.) The reason this was in Fulton was that
it is the home to Westminster College, a prestigious private establishment. It
was here, that Winnie made his Iron Curtain speech in 1948. Several others then
used the location to make similar iconic Iron Curtain speeches. Regan spoke
there when then Iron curtain came down and Gorby has been there a couple of
times. To commemorate this, there is a large chunk of the wall, artfully
sculpted by Edwina Sandys, his daughter-in-law. Perhaps most surprising about
this surprising place was St. Mary the Virgin, Aldermanbury - a genuine Chris
Wren building! Now I know he isn’t famous for doing a lot of his finest work in
the USA so we were interested to see this in such an obscure place. It was
burnt in the Great Fire of London, reconstructed by Wren, flattened by the
Jerries and then shipped and re-rebuilt in Fulton, Missouri! It’s not everyday
one comes across such a thing. Although it was a weekend, we received a few
raised eyebrows as we had parked in the quad for our picnic. Well, it was the
only bit of shade around.
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| Giant grain hoppers on the Great Plains (note the huge truck underneath it) |
We tottered on westwards and our next
interesting place was the Tall Grass Prairie National Conserve. According to
the rangers there (unarmed!) it is the only remaining original grassland left
in the states. We were driven around in an air-conditioned converted school bus
by Mad Eric Peterson – a ranger. It became pretty obvious that he didn’t know
too much about his grasses (or his flowers, birds, butterflies either) and
became a bit flustered by the fact that there were two ranchers in our group
who did know such things. He was enthusiastic and a reasonable bullshitter and
gave us something to snigger at on a hot day. A first for us was Buffalo – or
Bison if one is being pedantic. These were wild, in that they weren’t tethered
or collared and, according to Eric, they were pure blood in that they didn’t
have any cross-breeding with cattle in them. (I thinks one would have to be a
pretty desperate cow to have-it-away with a North American Bison; they are
huge.
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| Oh! Ranger. |
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Injuns - not what you want to see when
struggling westwards across the great plains |
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| Nav's eye view |
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| Grain and 14% efficient wind turbines |
It was in Kansas that I became a VND –
very naughty driver. In a fit of enthusiasm I neatly reversed over our camper’s
steps. They were buckled into some interesting shapes and were completely
buggered. Since then we have been carting around the wreckage in the back of
the truck in the hope that we can get them fixed when we arrive at my sister’s
in Big Horn.
It was also in Kansas that we saw a
red-faced man in a South African t-shirt peddling like crazy against the wind
on our in-the-middle-of -nowhere road. Sometime later we saw a couple of
others, one of whom was flying a Scottish flag. We stopped a very sweet and
seemingly un-smelly Polish girl who told us that they were an international
group biking from Peking to London in time for the Olympics. (I don’t mean to
imply that Polish girls are smelly far from it – all those that I have met have
smelt lovely. It’s just that it was very hot, they were working very hard and
they didn’t appear to be carrying much water – or any other luggage for that
matter.) A very red-nosed Lithuanian cyclist a bit later told me that they did
this every four years so, anyone mad enough to want to set out from London
en-route to Rio in four years time look up www.bicycle.pl or .lt (Bobby
??)
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| High Plains |
Further on (a lot further) on the same
road, we found a blind hippy hiker striding along the side of the road, bandana
round his head, white stick tapping away and the occasional vast cattle lorry
rocketing past. He was completely on his own and miles from anywhere. Where did
he stay? How did he know when he had got there? What did he think of the
scenery? Why? Sadly we couldn’t easily stop without causing a horrid pile-up
and probably killing the poor chap so we never got the chance to ask him.
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| You know what they say... big nose.... |
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Why-aye Twerp
No, that's a pistol in my pocket. |
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| ......... Sherlock |
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| I thought he lived in Ireland |
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| Vogel Canyon |
Our last Great Plains experience was a
couple of nights camped in the remote Comanche National Grassland above Vogel
Canyon. It was hot (100+) and windy but lovely. The canyon had a couple of dependable springs
in it and in the old days, used to be a refuge for those on the Santa Fe Trail
and before them, the Plains Indians. It was sad to see that the Indian rock art
had been badly defaced by poor quality graffiti – American version of the UK
Kevin Luvs Karen – Leroy loves burgers? From above the canyon we could see the
Rocky Mountains in Colorado for the first time. They were 90 miles away and we
could see the snow on top – very exciting!
We had stopped, as is our wont, at the
rangers office in La Junta and they were as helpful as ever. National
Grasslands are run by the same department as National Forests and have the same
“can-do” attitude. Outside the office we met a nice woman called Cindy Smith
who was there to study rock layers or strata (I can’t remember exactly what the
term is – not geologists or fossily-ists). She kindly asked us back to her
place in Canon City Colorado if we were passing – to “freshen-up” and maybe
“take a shower”. Although she didn’t seem to be gagging whilst talking to us,
or holding her nose, we have now developed a bit of a complex. Anyhow, we
didn’t go through Canon City so we couldn’t take her up on her very kind offer.
We did have a shower, though, and we have freshened-up – several times in fact
in our own camper’s palatial bathroom suite.
It was in Kansas that I couldn’t resist
a peek at the map for any interesting local names. The Nav doesn’t like me
doing this and says that I have a one track mind and even called me a deviant!
All these are real and in the order I found them: Peculiar, Zook, Radium, Antonio,
Bazaar, Skiddy, Kip, Spivey, Climax (what?), Beaver, Gas, Gaylord, Pauline,
Neutral, Pratt and Hooker!
Enough of Kansas, with its hot windy
plains and blind hikers, we were off to the mountains. Although we had sort-of researched
where we wanted to go and learnt that there were spectacular peaks and passes,
I wasn’t totally prepared for the altitude. The truck wasn’t prepared either;
we both wheezed and spluttered our way up to about 10,000 feet for our first
night. In fact, the Nissan couldn’t really cope on some of the steeper bits
with the aircon on. We have both got used to it now and are leaping around like
mountain goats (some of which I’ve seen). The Nav didn’t seem to be quite so
affected by the altitude which was good news, if slightly irritating. Now, as
you know, I don’t like using the word but the Colorado Rocky Mountains are
awesome. There are something like 43 peaks over 14,000 feet and wonderful roads
and tracks through them.
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| Swallowtail Pike National Forest Co |
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| Old mine Gold Camp - Cripple Creek Co |
We have camped in some beautiful, out-of
–the-way spots which normal or sane campers would never find. One just have to
persevere and keep a curious mind to see what is round the next corner. I will,
at some stage post a list of the coordinated of some of the best places we have
stayed but be warned, many of them are not for the faint-hearted. The best
things about our truck are its high ground clearance, high departure angle and
good tyres (BF Goodrich AT). The 4x4 has been useful as has the low-range for
creeping up steep rocks.
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| The Nav in Clear Creek |
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| The Driver 11,000 feet up the Rockies |
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| View from our camp - Beaver City |
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| VERY cold mountain stream |
Some Rocky Mountain experiences haven’t
been quite as remote as we would have liked. On our way up the Colorado valley
towards the Rocky Mountain National Park, we had heard of a remote hot spring
which issues into a sort of natural bath at the bottom of a cliff absolutely
next to the river. Yes, we will give that a go, we thought. After a mildly
strenuous couple of miles. We found the spring, clambered down the cliff and
found it occupied by a “young couple”, complete with radio, beer and fags (I
grudgingly admit it could have been us some years ago). Anyhow, they were
irritating and, as I didn’t have any swimmers with me and I wouldn’t want to
expose my shreddies to anyone, we decided to wait as they may have been about
to leave. What should then come bobbing
down the river, but a hen-party of girl river guides. They were in kayaks and were
pretty pissed. They disembarked and all piled into the hot springs. They were
all very jolly and were perfectly nice but they just wouldn’t go – even when I
told them to bugger-off: “oh bugger-orf, ha ha ha – don’t you just love that
accent?” When they started reading wilderness poems and screeching about the
call of the wild, the Nav and I decided to leave.
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| Hen party in hot spring Colorado river |
This set-back was more than compensated
for by our next camp. We climbed miles up very bumpy tracks through the Arapaho
National Forest to Junco Lake and spent 3 nights up there. It is a trail head
for a system of hiking or riding trails and during the day there were a few
others up there. By teatime, however, they would all be gone leaving us alone
in the most beautiful place. Having said that, we weren’t quite alone on our
first night. We came back from a little stroll around the lake to find a pickup
parked right next to us! An old bearded man in maroon and orange kit appeared
and asked if we wouldn’t mind if he stayed there. When I introduced myself he
replied that he used to be called Andy as well until 28 years ago when he
became a Buddhist monk and was now called Lhasa-do Katman-dahli (or something
similar, I didn’t quite catch it). He was 78 and had just one very horrid tooth
in his mouth (he showed us) and a dawg called Katie. He was walking the high
trails and after we had said goodnight etc, he dragged out a couple of foam
pads and some blankets and kipped on the ground. It was -6c when we got up in
the morning and must have been colder during the night but he seemed to have
survived. The other two nights we were totally alone – it was great and we
walked up to Lake Columbine at over 11,000 feet for a picnic.
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| Clear Creek Reservoir, Colorado Rockies |
If in Colorado for anything other than
the skiing, one has to go to the Rocky Mountain National Park. Although not the
absolute highest by a few feet, it is the most spectacular part of the area and
is dominated by Long’s Peak at about 14,400 feet. If you do go, then I recommend you
concentrate on the Western side of the park as it is much less touristy and
busy. On our second day there, we gave up on our plan to walk around a series
of high ponds as the huge car park at Bear Lake was heaving with hundreds of
cars and mainly revolting people and their even more revolting children.
The whole of this part of the Rockies
has been severely hit by a ghastly pest called the Mountain Pine Beetle. It
lays its eggs under the bark of any of the species of coniferous trees and when
they hatch they eat the living sub-layer and that’s it – curtains. There is
nothing that can been feasibly done about it – individual trees can be sprayed
with insecticide but you can’t do that to billions of trees from Canada to
Mexico. In the badly hit parts of the Colorado Rockies, at least two thirds of
the trees were dead. In the very long term forests seem to recover; in the last
500 years there have been several such attacks. Another problem in the
mountains is something called Sudden Aspen Decline which is killing off the
beautiful Aspen trees. It seems that the forestry service isn’t too sure
exactly what it is or how to control it. Exacerbated by all f these dead trees,
there are several bad forest fires rage through Colorado at the moment. The
worst one (worst in CO history) is burning in the North of the State and has
destroyed hundreds of homes . We could see the smoke from about 90 miles away
after we had crossed into Wyoming. It was started by lightning.
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| Lulu City - Rocky Mtns National Park |
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| Colorado valley looking south from near source |
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| Cactus Vogel Canyon |
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| From Wilkerson Pass |
Wyoming (and staying with my big sister
there) has been a bit of a long term goal for us so we were excited to be
entering the Cowboy State. Obligingly, the man at the information centre was
wearing a cowboy hat – a white one so he must have been a goody. He had a
display featuring the Pronghorn or “antelope”. They are the 2nd
fastest land animal and there are the same number of them in Wyoming as people;
about half a million. Certainly in the countryside we have seen more Pronghorns
than people. Actually, it’s very unusual to find anything in America which they
admit to being the second anything; everything is normally described as the
biggest/best/largest/oldest etc.
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| One for the grandmas |
I’ve been badgered by the two people who
follow this to write it more often, so with that in mind, I shall stop
rabbiting on now and try to get this off in the post in the next couple of
days. We are In South Dakota at the moment, camped under a hill in the Black
Hills called Fanny Peak (no photo). We are going to spend a few days in the
area en-route to Sheridan so I will let you know if anything interesting
happens here next time.
(actually didn't manage to get on internet so am now in Wyo - Ind Day 4 July)
Something went wrong with the photos - I hope they work.
