On a beautiful blue-sky day, our first in the van, we headed north out of Durango into the San Juan National Forest. We were traveling on Colorado’s highway 550. Wide sweeping views of gray and red peaks spread out before us. The mountains were decorated with groves of aspen trees already displaying golden and orange leaves. With his hands locked at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel, Joe said, “This is a lot of work…so no talking, okay?”
Sitting in the van with its wide front windshield and oversized tires, I felt like a front seat passenger on a personal tour bus. I love old fashioned paper maps — they’re big enough to provide a view of both where we’re going and where we’ve been. I followed our route in the Colorado atlas spread out on my lap. Before we left, we decided that Joe needed to focus on learning to drive the van, so I was the designated trip photographer. Occasionally, I’d snap a photo of the passing landscape with Joe’s iPhone.
Once we reached Silverton, I directed Joe to County Road 2 for our planned detour to the Animas Forks mining ghost town. The paved road transitioned to gravel and a few miles later we stopped the vehicle to read this bullet pointed sign:
• Four-wheel drive or high clearance vehicles - Recommended
• Passenger cars and vans - Not recommended
• RV’s and camper vehicles - Not recommended
• Semi-trucks with trailers - Prohibited
• Uphill traffic has right-of-way on all roads.
Joe looked at me and said, “John said that the road was dirt but not technical.” (John, the owner of Tonto Trails, not only sold us our van but helped us plan our trip through Colorado.)
I didn’t know what to say. Our van was four-wheel drive and high clearance but it was also a camper vehicle. As we bumped along at less than the posted speed of 15 mph, Joe asked, “Is the road condition suddenly worse?”
Looking down at the illegible scribbles in my Field Notes trip journal, I said, “Yes!”
On the road we saw Jeep Cherokees, two and four passenger all-terrain vehicles (ATVs) and dirt bikes. Some of the ATV drivers were wearing helmets, had extra gas cans strapped onto their vehicles and seemed prepared for any situation. They looked at us like we must be lost. In most places the road wasn’t wide enough for two-way traffic. Uphill traffic had the right-of-way, so upcoming would stop at a wide stop to allow us to pass. I started to wonder, “Where exactly are we going?”
At one wide spot in the road, the driver of a gray Jeep Wrangler signaled for us to roll down our window. I thought the driver stopped to give us a road condition report, instead he made a series of staccato statements, starting with, “Top lift up?” and ending with, “I want one!”
We reached Animas Forks, an 1890s mining town nestled in the mountains at 11,200 feet. Turns out the road was once a railroad track that was built adjacent to the Animas River. The search for gold and silver brought miners and their families up to this spot. The location was so remote that most of the residents wintered in nearby Silverton. We spent a half an hour walking through the weathered buildings. Reading the posted signs I learned that 250,000 people visit the site each year. That’s how many opt to ignore the warning sign and take the road less traveled.
The 12-mile trip up to the ghost town took a little over an hour. As we made our way down, I noticed that the mountain looked like it was trying to swallow up the road. Large talus piles of rocks were encroaching on the road bed any many spots. Just as we returned to the paved section of the road Joe looked at me and said, “I learned so much about driving. This is an amazing vehicle.”
I’ve decided to hold off on driving lessons until we return to Michigan.