Go West, Young Man Part 1.

Ok, so I think I have the highpoints of our trip to The Land of Sky all collected... Hopefully Stace will fill in any blanks.
Let me start by saying that the day before we left for CO we discovered that my debit card had been hacked and a significant amount had been fraudulantly charged to my account. Now that's a way to being a vacation! However we put that on the back burner and left on an early flight to Cleveland. Stace's mum and dad had come into town to watch after the dogs and do a little vacationing for themselves while we were gone. Always good to see them and the last time I guess was the wedding in September? Anyway, Ed dropped us off at the terminal and we headed to our gate. You know, at 6:30 AM on a Wednesday, you don't really expect to see anyone you know... unless you're us.
We ran into a friend of mine and her husband on their way to Canada, a local neighborhood friend on her way to Nicaragua for a month, and a girl Stace used to work with on her way North to visit family. And this is basically all out of the same or immediately surrounding gates.
Our flight to Cleveland was uneventful and smooth. We slept a little or read - usual in-flight actions. It was neat to see Lake Michigan again... We boarded our flight for Denver and while we were on the tarmac, I had a small tinge of panic. Now those who know me know how easily it is for me to talk myself into something. Luckily, it is usually even easier for me to talk myself OUT of that thing... But honestly, this time it was a little tough.
From Cleveland to Denver was a three hour and 10 minute flight. That's the longest flight I have been on and though I bet everyone who reads this has been on much much longer stints in a metal tube soaring through the air, I've decided that any flight longer then an hour and a half is more then "traveling from point A to point B", it's a damn committment. You are in a relationship with that machine for a significant amount of time. And unless you want to spend time in jail or worse, there's no turning around: You're stuck. So I panicked a little. Nothing that you could really sense outside of my own skin, but oh yeah, it was there. "What.. what if I want to go back? What if I want to change my mind?? I CAN'T!" For the sake of myself and everyone around me I was able to quickly quell my inner revolt and napped for a while.
When I woke up I was looking over what I could only guess was maybe Nebraska. I was checking out the scenery; debating the significance of a round plot of land vs. a square or rectangular plot, and all the while keeping an eye out for mountains. I was actually excited! I was finally going to Colorado! I was finally going to see (some of) the Rockies! So every now and then I craned my head to the window, peering as forward as I could in the hopes of spotting a cresting mountain. In my head I was comparing it to whale watching... constantly scanning the land for a glimpse of such a majestic and elusive thing... Of course then it dawned on me that it was actually more like driving to the zoo, cause well, it was pretty certain I was going to see mountains shortly.
That kind of sucked the wind out of my hunt. (shrug) Oh well.
Denver was a lovely city, what we quickly saw of it, and we drove down to Colorado Springs to check into the Red Crags - our little B&B for the night. On the way we ran around the area, checked out the "Garden of the Gods" and got something to eat. The Garden of the Gods is a very interesting spot as it is comprised of many stone formations in a small amount of acreage. There are some hiking and biking trails, along with a very nice souveneir shop. Well, that's not fair... The Trading Post is much more then a souveneir shop. It is Colorado's largest art gallery, according to the local travel info, AND they sell Starbucks coffee! Man, you talk about a place a person could spend a lot of money in quick! They had beautiful sculptures, paintings, photos, jewelry, clothing... A bit of everything.
The Red Crags was a restored large home and carriage house, decorated in the Victorian style. Our room was in the carriage house and our bathroom was down the hall. I spent an hour or so talking with Wachovia's Fraud department and they had closed my debit card overnighted me a replacement to our next B&B, and was refunding me my lost money. Very very helpful people! The next morning we met up with the other residents and had a very nice "gourmet" breakfast. Conversation was lively and we all compared travel notes as to who had been where and what was worth anything to see.
We packed up and drove around a little bit, deciding on going to the Seven Falls. I think it wsa the "In Mountain Elevator" that intrigued us the most. It was in a canyon-esque setting, lined with signs warning not to feed or pet the squirrels and chipmunks in the area as they can carry disease, etc.. As for the Seven Falls, they are a set of cascades, broken up into sections, that you can view from varying heights. The first set of steps to the Eagles Nest, as the lookout was called, was 184 steps. Steep steps. Steep metal steps. Steep wet metal steps. Oh, and the elevator was next door but why use it since we're here already. That'd be cheating. And safe.
We huffed our way up and took a gander. Not bad, we thought. So we hiked carefully back down and wandered around to the falls themselves where there was another set of stairs. These took you along the falls and to the top. The sign said 224 steps. Yep, steep, metal wets steps.
We took our time.
When we got to the top there was an elvation sign stating that we were now at 6800 feet. That's higher then any point on the East Coast. Sweet. Oh, and there was some sign mentioning "bear country" but we hustled on past it and headed for the top of the ridge. At the top, 7200 feet, is local author Helen Hunt Jackson's grave site.
Helen Hunt Jackson had good taste in locales as the vista view from there was really impressive.
After carefully scaling back down the trail and the stairs, we packed up and headed South for Trinidad.
Let me just say that my discussions involving Trinidad led us to imagine a possibly 3 block length ghost town comprised of a saloon/whorehouse and a couple of bed and breakfasts. This is not the case. Trinidad, though evidently not as large as Pueblo, is a surprisingly large little town of about 12,000 residents. Many of the main streets are brick and have "Trinidad" actually stamped into them. I forgot to ask where they were fired, whether in town or out. Evidently the town is know for its violent history as it is a border town to New Mexico and the residents are working to change that monicker. Now they are pushing the "artsy" side, not that it mattered much to us. There is a converted railway station - converted into what, you ask? A BREWERY! The Trinidad Brewing Company is a comfortable place if you are looking for some simple fare and a tasty ale. Evidently they ship to many parts of CO but unfortunately not to NC. We asked.
Oh, the saloon/whorehouse? No, that's real. Well, the saloon part is any way. Back in the day the other was true and the hotel rooms above the saloon are all named after ladies. Except the room called "Joe" but that might stand for "Joesephine", who knows.