Black Canyon of the Gunnison and Manitou Springs

The rain had passed over Ouray by Sunday morning, and we checked out of our hotel and headed for Box Canyon Falls, which we had seen on our way into town the previous day.  The 285-foot waterfall was less than a quarter of a mile from the hotel.  It was very impressive, falling into a quartzite canyon above which some brave workmen had constructed the steel walkways to the falls.

 

There were hot springs in the area, too, which was surprising since we were at an elevation of nearly 8,000 feet.  I read this interesting piece of history in the Box Canyon Falls Visitor Center:

 

“Years ago, if you glanced outside, you might have seen someone sipping from a jug next to one of the three hot springs discovered in Box Canyon.  Not only did the early settlers like to bathe in the soothing mineral waters, but they drank it for its healing powers.  Box Canyon was a favorite picnic spot for Ouray residents.  Imagine sipping “mineral tea” while waiting for your eggs to boil for lunch in the hot springs.  That is exactly what the old-timers did!”

 

That sounded appealing to me, and I might have even tried some of the mineral tea, or at least boiled an egg.

 

We drove back north through Ouray and east on Highway 50, our general trajectory these past few days as we began heading home.  A few miles from Montrose, we saw a sign for Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, which we not only had not included in our itinerary but for some reason had never even heard of before.  We turned into the entrance road and in just a short while began seeing spectacular views of a dark and craggy canyon.

 

This was the third unplanned National Park we had discovered along the way, and what a surprise it was, as equally beautifully as some of the other more well-known National Parks like Bryce Canyon.

 

We spent some time exploring the Visitor Center and walking down to the overlooks.  I noticed some tiny oak trees which I identified as Gambel oak, Quercus gambelii, more like a shrub than a tree.  As we drove back down the entrance road, a man was set up along the road in front of a pickup truck and behind a table.  He was Mike Drumm, and he was selling various carved and turned bowls made from aspen trees - beautiful workmanship.  We bought one of them, and as I write this post it is on our coffee table filled with tiny pumpkins and gourds, a fall decoration and a memory of a beautiful day.

 

What other reason is there for souvenir?

The souvenir rested lightly in my hand
but grew heavier as the days went by,
weighted by the memory that dangled
like an anchor at the end of a chain.

We had a picnic lunch on the shore of the Gunnison River a few miles later, the same river that had carved the canyon we had just seen.  It was so wide and placid that it seemed more like a lake to us.

 

There were big broad valleys and prosperous-looking ranches, and we kept climbing higher and higher into spruce trees, above the deciduous tree line.  I kept watching the altimeter app on my phone (Martha was driving) as it climbed to 9,000, 10,000 feet, finally topping out at 11,312 feet, Monarch Pass, which was also the continental divide.  

 

 
It was cool, 45 degrees, and then it began to rain a little and we descended down the mountain to Manitou Springs, where we were staying for the night.  Before we checked in, we had time to visit Garden of the Gods in Colorado Springs, just a few miles away.  Garden of the Gods is not a National Park, but a 1300-acre public park in Colorado Springs.  It is a beautiful place, much used by locals for hiking, running, and horseback riding.
 

We drove through the place, which was really unusual, rock formations standing up tall and craggy right in the middle of a busy city.

 

We drove back in to Manitou Springs.  Our hotel was the Cliff House at Pikes House, a rambling historic hotel built in 1873 and open to guests longer than Colorado has been a state.  I did not know it at the time, but the building is reportedly haunted, as well.  “Tales of disembodied voices and footsteps haunt the hotel, while a white apparition floats the hallways.”  We did not see or hear any of those things, and slept well after a long drive.