The last leg of the trip, the leg home, we managed in a bit of a hurry. My kids and wife have said that I am a master of the “long cut.” I could have plotted a more direct route home, but wanted to visit a few more things on the “way home.” We first headed to the Denver area to see Wade, the son of good friends and former neighbors. Enroute, after a long uphill struggle with the pedal to the metal of the old VW (being passed by all but the biggest campers and heaviest eighteen-wheelers), we entered the Eisenhower–Edwin C. Johnson Memorial Tunnel, the longest and highest tunnel in the U.S. Interstate System. Traveling west to east, as we were, it was suddenly all downhill. Through this marvelous feat of engineering we passed under the continental divide. On the other side of the tunnel, we stopped and tried unsuccessfully to see Bighorn sheep along Interstate 70 at a roadside viewpoint. Looking the other way, the man-made lake below the town of Georgetown, Colorado, was quite scenic and full of trout.
Following Wade’s recommendation, we visited another mountain lake fed by glacier runoff. After so much time in the car, the hike to and from St. Mary’s Glacier was a welcome change. It was a beautiful day, and the diversion made the timing right to meet Wade for dinner, where we talked of old times and recent adventures. I hope someday to be able to write about the remarkable father-and-sons canoeing expedition planned by Wade’s father, Tom, in northern Canada. Their journey finished in the Hudson Bay, after paddling for many days through many miles of remote wilderness; passing polar bears, and navigating icy rapids. I had heard Tom talk about it once before, but Tom is a very modest man and it was good to hear about it from Wade’s point of view. Wade credited his father with taking him and his younger brother, Thomas, on the adventure of a lifetime. Wade is also not a man to brag, but this statement is noteworthy, coming from a Naval Academy grad who has spent considerable time traveling the oceans of the world. We parted company, agreeing that we should not let another 20 years pass before meeting again.
The next morning in downtown Denver, I photographed another Capitol building to add to my list. Then we headed south to a National Park Miss Daisy had not seen (pictured above from a distance). I still think it is a pretty special place and worth more time, but Great Sand Dunes National Park and Preserve was a little more out of the way than it was worth, in my wife’s opinion. Since the park did not appeal to my wife on that day, and at this point she reiterated she had camped enough, we headed east and dropped into northeastern New Mexico. We passed Capulin Volcano National Monument, but unfortunately when we arrived, the gate had already closed and consequently, I did not get the sunset photo I planned from the road that circles the extinct cinder cone. Onward we went, leaving the sun to set in the rearview mirror, finishing the day in northern Texas.
The next day we got up early and drove and drove from Texas through Oklahoma stopping only for gas. When we got into Arkansas, we headed for the only National Park on the mainland of the lower 48 that I had yet to visit. Hot Springs National Park is atypical; so much so that my wife proclaimed, “This is a city, not a National Park.” As we walked the main street, I pointed to the sign that said Hot Springs National Park. I am pretty sure she did not fully appreciate it when I said, “I guess its status as a National Park is not debatable.” After walking a little more and reading some of the history on the signs, we both started to warm up to it. Though not all National Parks are created equal, this one, we both agreed, would be worth a visit in a non-covid time. The next time we would probably splurge and book a stay in the historic Arlington Hotel. On our visit, a fact that came to our attention is that Hot Springs was actually the first land set aside by Congress (1832) to preserve its use as an area for recreation. This was well before the concept of a national park even existed; something we take for granted today. We have a newfound appreciation for the role of this park in history, and a good reason to return to Arkansas. The day ended in Little Rock, the capital city, giving me a chance to get up early and photograph its Capitol building. We left Arkansas for the long drive to Atlanta, another Capitol I had not yet photographed. We spent the evening with our middle son, now a resident of the city. We made our way home to Virginia the next day.
For photos from this rather hurried part of the trip click here.