Samarth’s Travel Page

You look west on National Highway I-70, and all you see is the flat-as-a-plate state, the state of Kansas. With unending acres of farms and ranches on both sides, you feel as if you can almost see Denver, while still 500 miles away from it. But, the very same highway puts a smile on your face, as it goes through the picturesque and beautiful Colorado – The colorful state.
It was during my almost inhuman 2100 mile drive from Tulsa, OK to Seattle, WA over a weekend that I fell in love with Colorado. That passion for the mountains and natural beauty made us pack our bags and fly to Denver over this years’ thanksgiving weekend. A holiday perfectly planned, packed with leisure, adventure and a hope of achieving something. Madhura was courteous enough to take all of us, with loads of luggage, in her apartment, even a day before she was to leave for India. People here would understand the extreme state of confusion and hurry to check off stuff on a to-do list, when one is leaving for apna des. Our bad luck (or should I say worst ever) with horrible food (Now, imagine this coming from me, who is ready to eat anything that walks the earth) started with an expensive treat by Gokhale, the memory of which he is going to haunt Gokhale for the rest of his life! The uncooked kabobs at “The House of Kabobs” in Denver were a not-so-good experience. The drive to Vail was beautiful. Seeing the pretty snow covered mountains pumped in us (coming from FLAT lands of TX and OK) a fresh surge of enthusiasm. The information center people directed us towards a moderate hiking trail, as a practice and acclimatization trek for Mt. Elbert, which we were going to attempt the next day. We all felt good that we could adjust to these heights soon. The practice trek was a good one. We climbed for almost an hour, before we headed back to Vail. At first, Vail did disappoint us; it looked just like any other small town nestled in the mountains. But, as we entered Vail village, we were greeted by an unbelievably pretty town, lined up by shops, restaurants and gift shops, constructed in the typical European architectural pattern. All shops had nice little windows, lanterns hanging by the sides of entrances restaurants with wooden patios having candle-lit tables for quiet romantic dinners. A small stream running through the village, along with cobbled roads by its side and hotels with dimmed lighting on its banks gave the village a very “looking-through-a-soft-lens” appearance. It just makes you feel as if you are visiting Switzerland or some remote village in the French Alps. Now, if you think France, think expensive. Yes, that’s what the food was in Vail village. The lowest priced entrée was around $25, which made us hunt for fast food places elsewhere. With hard luck that got kicked off by “The Kabobs”, we munched on hot dogs and Manasi had to do with Nachos and cheese from a gas station. The drive to Leadville was in patch dark, and we reached at a time when all the restaurants were closed. The motel owner was an interesting person. He got each one of us, a plate with the complete Thanksgiving dinner. The menu was turkey, stuffing, salad, corn bread, and apple pie. It was only when we went to his office we learnt that this dude is an ultra-marathon runner, and after having won loads of medals, has gone into the organizing phase. Our reaction to the fact that he could run up Mt. Elbert in summer in 2 hours was nothing but blank. It was hard to imagine running up a 14-er at this dude’s age. The directions were accurate, as we drove towards the trailhead of Mt. Elbert the next day at 5 am. The jackets were not zipped and closed. The snowshoes were not worn. The gloves needed to be taken off to do all these activities. Now, its alright to do these elsewhere, but not when its 5 ° F outside. We both were chilled to the bones, and for a moment, we thought our hands would have to be amputated, after this climb. The feeling intensified for Gokhale when he had to take out his glove and liner for nature’s call. Our timing was perfect. We walked 4.5 miles just to reach the trailhead, a point where a car easily goes in summer time. We tackled all the diversions in the trail, as we were told by our HAP (High Altitude Porter), the motel owner. But, after an hour and a half’s climb, all of a sudden, the trail vanished. Despite desperate efforts to make our own trail, we couldn’t progress much in knee-deep snow. And, that was the hard time, when we decided to abandon the climb and head back down. We even had our own doubts regarding the correct direction of trail we had taken. It doesn’t feel very good when you don’t summit the mountain you set out to bag. But, as I always say – the mountain will stay there. If we survive, we can come back to it. But, if we summit, and die, it’s not worth it. Having got lost in the woods, and after an exhausting 11 mile walk in snow, we relished the comfort of our Pontiac G6 parked at the tree line. Frozen and almost wooden-like snicker bars were our menu for the hike. Returned the snowshoes, and after another pathetic dinner at the Pizza hut, the park rangers assured us that were on the right trail.

The next day activity on the charts was skiing at Ski Cooper, in between Vail and Leadville. The fun started when Manasi shouted and everybody, literally everybody watched her go up on the ski lift. Like me and Gokhale, she also tasted the snow for the first time while dismounting from the lift. My repeated trials to persuade her to come with me didn’t work, so I got her enrolled in a ski school. The 75 year old instructor was an outdoor freak, as his life was, in his words, “he skis’ in winters and jumps out of airplanes in summers”. While Manasi was busy learning, I and Gokhale thought of giving the BIG ski lift a shot, in other words, ski down a higher level slope. The duration for which we were going up scared us both, thinking about the slope length and inclination. The “Mary Mayfield” ski slope was a combination of relatively steep and lengthy sections. Both of us crashed a lot of times, out of which one of mine was to avoid hugging the trees at an extreme speed with which I was going. The skiing was so much fun that we decided to against going to Aspen, and headed directly to Colorado Springs. The 3-hr. drive through mountain passes was a bit risky, as there was black ice on the roads, which is sometimes not visible to naked eye. The drive next day to Manitou Springs, which is a suburb of Colorado Springs, was pretty, and the cog railway ride up Pikes Peak was also pretty. It was hard to imagine that the world’s highest cog railway and USA’s highest train is in service since the past 114 years. We could see the halfway point where people used to stay in olden times. We were fortunate enough to be the first one to buy the tickets, and hence, first ones to occupy the front row, maximizing our view. Pikes Peak was beautiful, but it would be even great to climb it. Going towards the Denver airport, seeing the sun set over the mountains, knowing in the heart that I failed to summit Elbert, I dreamt of climbing all the 53 fourteeners someday. As I bid farewell to one of the most beautiful states in the United States of America, I knew one thing for sure – In the case of Mt. Elbert, I couldn’t achieve my dream, but I tried, my level best, pushing my limits as far as I could.