It's a Sunday, and I have to work. I can think of worse things. My job today takes me to Canon City, to install a printer. Since the weather will be getting warmer soon, I wanted to take a ride with my dog, Andy, who hasn't yet gotten used to the motorcycle. The weather this weekend has been flirting with a snowstorm, but the Spring storm that we're used to turned out to be a dusting. The higher elevations seemed to get it all, so I decided to take the drive in to the mountains.
I loaded the dog and the printer into the car, and headed out to Canon City. I spent an hour beating it up, and then started on the journey into uncharted territory. OK-not exactly uncharted, but I'd never been there.
The turnoff to the road to Victor is clearly marked, so I couldn't miss it. Within three miles, I was within Phantom Canyon-an area I knew from the air, having flown over it when I was skydiving a few years ago, but hadn't ever seen it from the ground. I also knew the name, because there's a popular Colorado Micro-brewery that named its beer after the area. I was anxious to see what it was about.
I guess the area took its name from the haunting looks that the trees gave. They were growing near the road, with a great deal of branches, making them look like those I would expect outside of a haunted house. The walls of the canyon were very steep, and I estimated that the cliffs were probably 300 feet high.
I found a draw near a place to park the car, and decided to climb a little. I took Andy out, and led him up the side of the hill, so we could take in the view. The climb was pretty treacherous, with loose rock and cacti, so Andy and I decided to climb about 80 to 100 feet up and stop. The climb made me realize that Andy isn't a mountain dog, no more than I am a mountain man. We descended back down to the car.
Our drive took us through two tunnels, and deeper into the mountains. The snow started falling, and I thought about my predicament. I was driving on a dirt road, far from any civilization, on a road that wasn't well travelled, and snow was coming in. I did, however, have a well-tuned Suzuki with four wheel drive and good tires, and a full tank of gas. What was the worst that would happen? I could be stranded and be forced to eat my dog? Well, there have been days where I wasn't stranded anywhere, and I wanted to eat my dog.
OK-just kidding. I won't eat my dog.
The road started ascending higher into the mountains. The road had a washboard characteristic, making me wish for better shocks, but even better shocks wouldn't have saved me from the bumps and ruts. At several points through this road, I stopped to take a look at the area. It reminded me of the roads my father used to drive through when we vacationed in Colorado. We used to go days without seeing a paved road. Back then, Colorado was the wild west, and I was a little kid. (No, I'm not talking about 1872, I'm talking about 1972).
I finally found myself on the south side of Victor. When I started pulling in to town, I actually thought that I had somehow missed Victor and was in Cripple Creek. The town looked similar, with mining towers and 100 year old buildings, but I didn't see the casinos that have pulled Cripple Creek into the 21st Century, so it didn't take me long to discover that I was in Victor.
This town was beautiful. I felt that I had taken a step back in time, to an area that was untarnished by present day fixtures. I drove in to the center of town, and took pictures while standing in the middle of the main street. I wasn't the only one there taking pictures. I saw another woman there who had the same idea that I did. I was grateful to have a digital camera with good batteries.
I explored around the old school, which was not in use any longer, and found some old painted signs on buildings that were another trip back in time.
I couldn't stay much longer, because my church service was at 6:30 in the evening. It was 5:30, and the drive back to Colorado Springs took over an hour. Andy and I hit the road and flew.
We made it to church in that time, and I didn't have to eat the dog.
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