As our training progresses through the heat and humidity of summer, this Throwback Thursday post revives a snow and ice filled adventure from a few years ago. Part I sets the scene, while Part II will be my personal experience.
Nestled deep within the Rocky Mountains of Colorado is the mountain town of Ouray. Pronounced “YOU-ray”, it gained prominence during the Colorado Silver Boom in the late 1800s. This precious metal prosperity soon diminished, but not before imparting a Victorian-era architectural character that remains to this day. The beauty of such buildings among the towering peaks of the surrounding San Juan Mountain Range helped fill the mining industry voids with a tourist economy that has kept the 1,000-resident city alive for over a century.
“Beaumont Hotel, Ouray, Colorado” by Ken Lund is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
Ouray is connected to the nearby city of Silverton by the Million Dollar Highway, a dangerous yet breathtaking stretch of blacktop that consistently ranks near the top of the list of the most beautiful drives in the country. The truly self-respecting adventure tourist would first arrive in Silverton by means of the Durango & Silverton Narrow Gauge Railroad, a historic 45-mile length of track converted from mining to passenger use in decades past. I say all of this from a purely theoretical point of view since my own personal circumstances dictated that I approach Ouray from the much more boring opposite direction in a rented crossover after taking a regional jet into Montrose Airport. I was happy to be on the road nonetheless, given that something on the fuselage floor of the Bombardier CRJ I flew in on was held together with duct tape and the overhead compartments weren’t even big enough for my messenger bag.
“ABQ-SLC” by ruifo is licensed under CC BY-NC-SA 2.0.
It was my first time at an airport small enough to negate enclosed jetways. The turbine fans were still winding down and a chilling gust of wind hit me as I stepped off the plane and onto the ramp, visualizing snow on every mountain peak in sight. Baggage handlers were unloading skis, snowboards, and Louis Vuitton matching luggage sets from the belly of the aircraft. I felt out of place yet oddly at peace shouldering my North Face bag and walking past the livery line of Cadillac Escalades and fur coats with a Budget Rental Car keychain dangling out of the pocket of my jeans. I wasn’t there to buy a lift pass at the lodge and hit the ski runs. Rather, I was there to climb.
At the widest, Ouray’s outskirts are only half of a mile apart. Lengthwise, the narrow town is just about one mile top to bottom. At these borders are mountain slopes that sharply rise 5,000 feet or more above Main Street. The snowpack melting off these cliffs flows from every direction into a dozen tributaries which feed the Uncompahgre River running directly through the valley of Ouray. Yet before this watershed reaches its next downstream confluence, it interacts with two striking geological features that define the area’s winter tourism: box canyons and hot springs. I was about to become intimately familiar with both for the next three days.
“Ouray, CO in the Winter” by squeaks2569 is licensed under CC BY-SA 2.0
To be continued…
The Dark Passport 