Sunday, September 11, 2011
Wednesday, September 7, 2011
Telluride Film Festival
Just a couple days before the weekend, we decided to head to the San Juans (which, along with New Mexico, are my default top choices for long weekends). J says, "Let's go to Telluride, we haven't been there." Sounds good. What's going on for Labor Day? The famous film festival!
I knew it was a big deal, but only after looking online did I realize it was a Big Deal (capital B, capital D). The festival truly is a world-class event for showing new films, and celebrating the people who make them. Stars would be in town, such as George Clooney, whose career was being celebrated this year. (I killed time on the drive over by wondering to myself if I would be upset if George Clooney kissed my wife...and surprised myself with my own answer!) Anyway, most festival-goers have passes that cost hundreds of dollars, whereas single movie tickets go for $25/each, if available. So it's not an event to take lightly.
However, there also happens to be free outdoor showings each night in the park. The only catch is getting a spot on the grass. And, the titles aren't announced before the weekend, so it could be anything. We decided to show up and push our luck, hoping that Sunday night would work out better than Friday or Saturday.
So we rolled into Telluride about 5pm. The lady at the visitor center told us where to park, and that we should grab a spot to sit (for the 8:30 show!) immediately, if there were even a spot left! I didn't know about this system of saving seats, but the thing to do is show up with a tarp or blanket or chairs in the afternoon. Fortunately, we were able to find a spot in the back, but unobstructed in the middle, which fit our 2 small chairs. Now we could relax and check out the town itself.
I expected qualities of Aspen or Vail -- in a bad way. Ostentatious houses dotted the canyon walls: 2nd homes of stars that barely use them a week or two a year, when they fly in to the local airport on holiday. Some of these stars are no doubt environmentally-conscious, as the solar panels on their 4000-square-foot homes can attest. But, hey, at least there's a Sotheby's in town!
But then Telluride surprised me. We didn't see George Clooney, or any other stars, but instead we saw a town genuinely celebrating the art of film in a beautiful way. Local buildings are repurposed into theaters, with colorful decor and lighting, making the town feel even cozier in the waning summer sunlight that leaves early in the box canyon. We took a break at Smuggler's Brewpub and enjoyed hanging out on the patio. The beer was decent and the food was OK, but the staff was friendly and "real" and the prices weren't too bad. We then headed up the canyon to check out Bridal Veil Falls, and enjoyed quiet, distant views at sunset.
Realizing that I needed to refill water bottles, we stopped at the town park, which is a lovely green space with camping and free showers. A couple was staying in their van in the parking lot, and some kids were playing badminton. A guy was waiting for his cell phone to charge in a restroom outlet, and another couple were having a wine picnic on a picnic table. I was struck by the simplicity and openness of the place, and my curmudgeonliness gave way to bemusement, and ultimately wonder.
And then hunger and thirst.
We headed back down the road into town, and stopped at a coffee stand (out of several coffee shops that looked promising and were open past 8pm) for coffee and tea. Wanting just a bit of dessert -- chocolate, specifically, because somebody is addicted to chocolate -- we wandered back to a truffle store I had seen earlier. Yes, a truffle store, but when you want just a simple but quality hint of a dessert, it's not such a bad deal, is it? The girl behind the counter was friendly, patient, and European. I asked if she was here for the skiing, but she waxed poetically on the imminent Autumn. This is the first time I've ever heard a ski bum that was interested in September!
Now it was time to take our seats, prepared with chocolate, coffee, and some beer in a Nalgene (waste of time: everyone else was openly pouring from bottles of wine). But would our chairs remain where we placed them hours earlier? Yes! No sooner had we sat down, then I learned about the free popcorn stand, and no sooner had I learned about that than I stood up again.
The lady at the visitor center had told us that the film was a comedic remix of clips from surf movies. I was excited, having seen "The Endless Summer" as well as various big-wave documentaries, and Jack Johnson's surf film.
True story: 6 years ago, I was on-shore after finishing a surf session in Del Mar (Full true story: I suck at surfing but am enthralled by it), and started chatting with a guy on shore. Somehow we were talking about the epic wave that had hit Teahupoo the week before; and he told me he was there! It was such a big wave that even casual people like me had heard about it. I started buying his story, he was very cool about it, and I kept listening, but then wondered if I had been suckered. Later, at home, I was googling around, and I found an article with his picture on it! This ended up being "Big Wave Hunters," I believe.
So back to Telluride...turns out Sunday night was a free Double Feature! The "bad news" was that the surf film, "Hollywood Don't Surf," didn't begin until 10:15. The prospect of driving up the rocky, one-car-wide Alta Lakes Road at midnight-thirty was daunting even to me, so we would have to miss it. Instead, the film we would see was "The Island President," which ended up being as good or better than anything else I could have expected, and deserves it's own separate review, as well as an Oscar nod next year.
At 8:15, the lights of the surrounding buildings dimmed. Behind the blue screen was a sheer canyon wall, with a crescent moon hanging overhead. An occasional moth would cross the stream of light from the projector, flitting about like fat snowflakes. And around us were people snuggling up in blankets and down jackets and hats.
This setting, this spot, was absolutely magical and spectacular. The show was about to begin.
Alta Lakes Camping near Telluride
Alta Lakes Campground
Free camping near Telluride
Now here's a San Juan gem for free camping!
Just south of Telluride/Mountain Village, immediately across the street from the pay/crowded Sunshine Campground, is Alta Lakes Road. This road is a semi-rough 5 miles upward to Alta Lakes, with some dropoffs (aka "Great Views!") off the side of the road. As you get higher, in fact, you'll have great views of Lizard Head in the distance. The road isn't too bad but high clearance is recommended and perhaps necessary.
Near the top, pass some photo-worthy mining buildings and streams, before reaching the lakes themselves.
Your reward is a pick of one of the best car campsites I've seen in Colorado, if not a wonderful day area for a picnic and some hiking, biking, or fishing. Again, even trying our luck on Labor Day/Telluride Film Festival weekend, we had a choice of spots. Three alpine lakes are filled with jumping fish that were simply teasing the fishermen trying to catch them, but not that they didn't have fun trying.
We chose the first spot on the backside, along the large cliff wall that formed Silver Mountain and Palmyra Peak. With some downtime, I climbed these peaks about half a dozen times, tracing out different routes -- in my mind, with a beer in hand. Climbing is much safer this way! Since we plan on kicking around in Colorado for years to come, I anticipate coming back there and heading up some other time.
Tracing the ridge around the lake, it eventually gives way to a softer tundra shoulder, and the poky outlier named "Bald Peak." This area is the top of Telluride ski area, so a quick 20-25 minute jaunt above treeline gives views towards the ski area, as well as up toward Lizard Head. Otherwise, some singletrack skirts around the mountains and makes for a nice mountain biking loop from the ski area, down Alta Lakes road, and across to Sunshine.
There is no shortage of activities at Alta Lakes!
Free Camping near Ouray
Found some good campsites on the Ouray side of Red Mountain Pass. Immediately after the Ironton Park turnoff, on the left as you're going towards Silverton, any of the next turns lead into the flat park area with open camping. Found something on Labor Day weekend, and enjoyed being able to look up at the Red Mountains above.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Next 2 weekends?
Still on the (growing) list:
Pawnee-Buchanan Loop
Tenmile Traverse
Belford-Oxford-Missouri (Emerald-Iowa optional)
Rawah Lakes Loop (w/ TBD modifications for N and S Rawah Pk)
Mummy Kill
Aspen 4-Pass again
Anyone?
Pawnee-Buchanan Loop
Tenmile Traverse
Belford-Oxford-Missouri (Emerald-Iowa optional)
Rawah Lakes Loop (w/ TBD modifications for N and S Rawah Pk)
Mummy Kill
Aspen 4-Pass again
Anyone?
Blue Lakes Pass Hike from Yankee Boy Basin
Blue Lakes Pass Hike from Yankee Boy Basin
~4M roundtrip, loop near Wright Lake and return via Sneffels/Road
Yankee Boy Basin is one of the most photographed natural landscapes in Colorado, and inspires numerous adjectives attesting to the beauty of the area, especially during wildflower season. I agree with these sentiments, yet would add my own: "Overrated."
Now, this isn't entirely fair for many reasons. First, I'm obviously and shamelessly trying to get your attention with a controversial hook. Sorry. Also, we're past the peak of the wildflower bloom, and so I haven't seen the explosion of colour against a blue sky backdrop that is truly a daytime fireworks show. Finally, we're simply spoiled with so many other beautiful options in Colorado especially, that I can't help but think that most of the superlatives come from folks that just stepped out of the car. And, for me, that ends up being a major detraction, the same way I was disappointed, almost enough to "sit by the Merced River and cry," when visiting Yosemite and seeing a string of cars snaking along the valley. Similarly, in Yankee Boy Basin, just behind the telephoto lenses of all those gorgeous pictures lies the buzzing of 4WD vehicles crawling up and down the mountain; loud t-shirted folk in clouds of cigarette smoke; and a group of "sportsman" that decide above treeline is a fine place for recreational target shooting.
The first step, of course, is a slow 6-mile drive along a shelf road (Camp Bird Road) just barely wide enough for a single car at many points. This road is deservedly interesting and can be handled by most cars in good weather, and people even less hypocritical than me might hike the road. (Not really: most people drive most of the way up to a parking area near restrooms, before the terrain gets steeper and rockier). The highlight is driving underneath a section of rock that overhangs the road. Driving this road does command full attention, but the real danger is the threat of Dad's inflated self-satisfaction when the drive is done, despite modern engineering and technology having done most of the work. We're a lazy bunch these days: throw in horses and snow and darkness into the mix instead, and we'd be talking legitimate danger.
But let's be honest, and back up a bit: if you can ignore the sensual assault via smoke, fumes, and echoing gunfire above treeline, this area is still a feast for the eyes, with the full palette represented by this year's late bloom:
The best view is actually backward toward Potosi Peak, which one writer had aptly compared to Huayna Picchu standing sentinel over Macchu Picchu:
Further up the road lies a trail to Blue Lakes Pass, as well as the more popular trail up a scree-filled couloir to the top of 14er Mt. Sneffels. Sneffels is more approachable but significantly less impressive than it's North face presentation, where it lords Mordor-like over Ridgway. I will not post a picture here of the shortened stature of what Sneffels looks behind the curtain.
Instead, we headed up to Blue Lakes Pass, as an easy hike to peer over into another mountain valley.
Since I promised J an easy, non-summit hike, we ended up doing everything ironically and wrong to make it more challenging. We started at 3pm with significant cloud cover and visible verga, and she kept a cotton shirt on. Thinking we were on a road for nearly all of the hike, she asked about keeping her flip-flops on. Sure, why not? I kept my keen sandals, shorts, and cotton flannel on as well. This worked for most of the hike, until a few things happened. First, it started snowing lightly. No big deal, we did have extra layers. Then, right before the top of the pass, the trail follows directly perpendicular to fall line with almost no purchase whatsoever on hardpacked dirt. I didn't know J's sandals had no tread whatsoever, whereas my shoes are 8 years old. So the Class 1 involved scooting on our butts so as not to slide off the trail. We spent less than 2 minutes at the top, where I was chastised yet again for things being not as easy as advertised.
But, there were no storms or falls, and we made it back down. Once we looped back to the Sneffels junction, a few other groups were heading up to Sneffels still, and despite our attire and questionable footwear and obvious lack of helmets (which are a great idea on the Sneffels route), still asked us that common question:
"Did you summit?"
We were happy to fit right in.
~4M roundtrip, loop near Wright Lake and return via Sneffels/Road
Yankee Boy Basin is one of the most photographed natural landscapes in Colorado, and inspires numerous adjectives attesting to the beauty of the area, especially during wildflower season. I agree with these sentiments, yet would add my own: "Overrated."
Now, this isn't entirely fair for many reasons. First, I'm obviously and shamelessly trying to get your attention with a controversial hook. Sorry. Also, we're past the peak of the wildflower bloom, and so I haven't seen the explosion of colour against a blue sky backdrop that is truly a daytime fireworks show. Finally, we're simply spoiled with so many other beautiful options in Colorado especially, that I can't help but think that most of the superlatives come from folks that just stepped out of the car. And, for me, that ends up being a major detraction, the same way I was disappointed, almost enough to "sit by the Merced River and cry," when visiting Yosemite and seeing a string of cars snaking along the valley. Similarly, in Yankee Boy Basin, just behind the telephoto lenses of all those gorgeous pictures lies the buzzing of 4WD vehicles crawling up and down the mountain; loud t-shirted folk in clouds of cigarette smoke; and a group of "sportsman" that decide above treeline is a fine place for recreational target shooting.
The first step, of course, is a slow 6-mile drive along a shelf road (Camp Bird Road) just barely wide enough for a single car at many points. This road is deservedly interesting and can be handled by most cars in good weather, and people even less hypocritical than me might hike the road. (Not really: most people drive most of the way up to a parking area near restrooms, before the terrain gets steeper and rockier). The highlight is driving underneath a section of rock that overhangs the road. Driving this road does command full attention, but the real danger is the threat of Dad's inflated self-satisfaction when the drive is done, despite modern engineering and technology having done most of the work. We're a lazy bunch these days: throw in horses and snow and darkness into the mix instead, and we'd be talking legitimate danger.
But let's be honest, and back up a bit: if you can ignore the sensual assault via smoke, fumes, and echoing gunfire above treeline, this area is still a feast for the eyes, with the full palette represented by this year's late bloom:
The best view is actually backward toward Potosi Peak, which one writer had aptly compared to Huayna Picchu standing sentinel over Macchu Picchu:
Further up the road lies a trail to Blue Lakes Pass, as well as the more popular trail up a scree-filled couloir to the top of 14er Mt. Sneffels. Sneffels is more approachable but significantly less impressive than it's North face presentation, where it lords Mordor-like over Ridgway. I will not post a picture here of the shortened stature of what Sneffels looks behind the curtain.
Instead, we headed up to Blue Lakes Pass, as an easy hike to peer over into another mountain valley.
Since I promised J an easy, non-summit hike, we ended up doing everything ironically and wrong to make it more challenging. We started at 3pm with significant cloud cover and visible verga, and she kept a cotton shirt on. Thinking we were on a road for nearly all of the hike, she asked about keeping her flip-flops on. Sure, why not? I kept my keen sandals, shorts, and cotton flannel on as well. This worked for most of the hike, until a few things happened. First, it started snowing lightly. No big deal, we did have extra layers. Then, right before the top of the pass, the trail follows directly perpendicular to fall line with almost no purchase whatsoever on hardpacked dirt. I didn't know J's sandals had no tread whatsoever, whereas my shoes are 8 years old. So the Class 1 involved scooting on our butts so as not to slide off the trail. We spent less than 2 minutes at the top, where I was chastised yet again for things being not as easy as advertised.
But, there were no storms or falls, and we made it back down. Once we looped back to the Sneffels junction, a few other groups were heading up to Sneffels still, and despite our attire and questionable footwear and obvious lack of helmets (which are a great idea on the Sneffels route), still asked us that common question:
"Did you summit?"
We were happy to fit right in.
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