Colorado Day Four

We left the hotel around 8:30 this morning, looking forward to a busy day of tourism.  Our first stop will be Cave of the Winds, not far out of Colorado Springs. The hairpin turns and switchbacks leading up to the entrance were interesting from the inside of the bus. Noah, our bus driver, was obviously not in his first rodeo.  At one curve roadblocks stopped oncoming traffic because we took up both lanes.  Hanging over the edges didn’t cause me as much anxiety as the upcoming venture into the bowels of the earth.

Our guide, Slim Jim, did a great job explaining all the stalactites, stalagmites, sink holes, rock formations, and all things cave-ward.   He told us hair-raising stories of his own caving experiences, pointing out openings barely big enough for a body to squeeze through; he told us of scooting himself forward, one hand stretched forward, one behind him, on his belly, letting the air out of his lungs to make himself thin enough to move.  On reaching a dead end, he had to scoot backward quite a distance back out.  I felt a little queasy just hearing about it.  Jim, however, was full of enthusiasm about the whole thing.

Next, we went to the Garden of the Gods, where boxed lunches were provided for us on a scenic deck overlooking red limestone rocks with Pikes Peak visible in the distance. The perfect weather was made-to-order. Our ride-along guide, Jane, told us about the kissing camel rocks, the Scotsman, the Indian maid who cries when it rains, and the man with the big nose. The red in the sandstone formations comes from iron oxide and we saw a film that told us in detail how everything was formed over billions of years. I confess I’m skeptical, being a creationist myself, but then who knows how exactly everything was before and during the “without from and void” years. It is the height of arrogance to presume the minute amount of knowledge we possess is all there is. 

The film showed dinosaurs roaming freely and ultimately being destroyed by one natural disaster after another, so now we must content ourselves with the occasional black bear or mountain goat, neither of which we were fortunate enough to see. 

We stopped at the 700 ton balanced rock for photo ops, then we returned to the main buildings to drop off our guide and head to the next attraction. 

Among the many advantages to traveling with this group of people are the tasty snacks that make the rounds whenever a hint of hunger threatens.  We munched on spicy pretzels, party mix, and dark chocolate covered almonds, all home-made of course.  Since today the hearings on the Brett Kavenaugh confirmation hearings are getting heated and downright embarrassing, several people had their phones cranked up so we could all hear what a sorry pass we’ve come to in this country.  When I heard the word flatulence I realized that we have sunk to new depths.  Imagine if you will George Washington talking about GAS.  Seriously, it makes one contemplate immigrating to . . .somewhere. . .anywhere. Legally, of course.  Well, okay, not just anywhere.  Preferably a country where women can drive cars and people we don’t approve of are not killed willy nilly.

A mountain peak far above and to the far left is sprouting antennae of all kinds. Our guide had told us this is NORAD, the North American Aeronautics Defense Command where Canada and the United States work together to provide aerospace warning, air sovereignty, and protection for North America.  Far beneath the surface fifteen 3-story buildings are built on massive springs, designed to protect them from earthquakes or explosions.  They are presumed to be safe from a megaton nuclear explosion from as close as 1.2 miles outside the 25-ton blast proof doors. The complex houses a medical facility, store, cafeteria, and fitness centers.  Housing for personnel ranges from communal bunks to well-appointed apartments, depending on one’s status.  The area surrounding the entrance is restricted and hikers will be escorted away should they venture too close.

We stopped next at the Manitou Cliff Dwellings. Strolling around the pueblo and exploring their homes carved out of the cliffs, I could almost hear the children running and playing while the women ground the corn with only stones for tools.  I could see the hunters disappearing soundlessly into the surrounding vegetation and trees, stalking game, returning with venison and buffalo.  The old men sit around the fire telling tales and boasting about past exploits; the old women entertain babies while their mothers tend to tasks requiring young limbs and strong backs. 

The oldest part of this pueblo was built in 1898, remaining occupied until 1984.  The Taos Pueblo was built around 1450 and has been continuously inhabited.  With no doors or windows in lower floors the only access to the dwellings was by ladders which were pulled up at night or during enemy attacks. An amazingly effective and comfortable habitation, altogether.

Then it was on to Seven Falls, a spectacularly scenic series of waterfalls spilling out of rock formations rising hundreds of feet into the brilliant blue sky.  I chose to ride an elevator to the first scenic overlook but decided to take the hundreds of stairs to the bottom after drinking in the incredible sights.  When my knees didn’t protest too loudly after several hundred steps down, I figured why not attempt the 210-step climb to the platform nearest the upper falls?

It went fairly well considering the high altitude gave my lowlander lungs some burning, breathless minutes.  And the views were definitely worth the effort.  If you will look closely you will see me descending in the picture to the left. I'm almost one-third of the way down. I’ll see what my knees have to say to me tomorrow.  The older I get the louder the voice of my joints.  It’s rather infuriating.

A tired but satisfied group of travelers boarded the bus for our evening meal at The Golden Corral.  Gourmet cuisine, not so much, but quite sufficient none-the-less and certainly a good fit for our dusty, hungry group.  Weary we were and happy to see our hotel tonight.