Rocky Mountain High

Road Trip from Santa Fe to Boulder, Colorado

May 31, 2024

Finally….

It’s taken me over a year and a half - to actually leave my new adobe digs in Santa Fe.

Overnight, that is.

Yeah, ok, you’ve gotten these nice little day trip reports - along with the integrated literary soundtracks of Dylan, the Beatles and the Stones - to national monuments, steamy hot springs, and Pueblo cliff dwellings built right into the vertical gashes of red rocks. And yeah, sure, Surya and Exsel, my Indonesian wife and son, left me here high and dry (make that high and snowy cold) last New Years when they flew to equatorial Sumatra for their first, 3rd world Christmas with their natal family in so many moons.

But… me? I hadn’t left my Southwest adobe abode since my great escape from arid LA in September 2022.

So much for the world traveler!

It was more than about time…

We chose Boulder Colorado for our great escape. Right at the foot of the Rocky Mountains. Where the majestic snow-capped peaks truly divide the North American continent - into East and West (from Alberta, Canada to right here in sunny New Mexico, without including the spiny Sierra Madres in Mexico itself ). A distance of 3000 miles. Where the rain, snow, and rivers flow one way from the “Continental Divide” - toward the remote East coast of the Atlantic Ocean, and the other way, west, towards the great Pacific - just as Sir Isaac Newton and his ever-steady law of gravity theorized. Simultaneously downhill, from the great frozen vertebrae of the continent.

I first went to Boulder in the mid-70s, “back in my century,” as Exsel irritatingly likes to remind me.

I was in my mid-20s, surprisingly a professional modern dancer in Chicago, living breathing, eating, attending, and absorbing everything… modern dance had to offer. And there, lo and behold… out in Boulder, Colorado, was… the Naropa Institute, founded in 1974 by Tibetan Buddhist teacher Chögyam Trungpa (whose name is not even on Naropa’s current website because of the sexual and financial scandals with which the “Rinpoche” was subsequently involved). But “back in the day”, Naropa started offering, not only Western-Buddhist-hippie spiritual classes, but also summer workshops in poetry and… modern dance. I was there for the inaugural!

The world population had just reached 4 billion, and America was embroiled in the Watergate scandal that would bring down President Richard Nixon, when Naropa offered its first two summer sessions in an old bus depot with faculty that included Allen Ginsberg, Anne Waldman, Ram Dass, Gary Snyder, and John Cage, plus other famous writers, performers, and scholars. More than 1500 students attended, six times what had been anticipated. Immediately, Rinpoche asked Allen Ginsberg, Anne Waldman, John Cage, and Diane di Prima to found the Jack Kerouac School of Disembodied Poetics at the Naropa Institute.

It was a wild night, the night Nixon resigned, and some of the townspeople may have come thinking it was a party to celebrate that. Also, it being a college town and the evening being billed as a ‘Concert with John Cage,’ some people may have thought they could just all join in and sing along. Ha! The energy was insane, people were throwing cushions all around. Wild! —Anne Waldman

That was half a century ago… when I was still an artist in search of himself.

I wondered now, if and how the town had changed in 50 years.

Surya and I hit the road at a reasonable time, not tooooo early, having been told that check-in time at the hotel isn’t ‘til 4 pm. No Exsel on this trip. Hey, he’s a working busboy over the weekends in Santa Fe these days. Besides, he wouldn’t want to go with his square-ass parents anyway!

We’re going to be driving Surya’s car - so we put 4 new tires on it, change the oil, and even the rear brakes. Does the car actually need all that? Who knows? Do you trust your car mechanic? I did mine in LA, but I’ve only been in Santa Fe for less than two years. How much trust can you build in that amount of time? Good question. But like I said, it’s Surya’s Mazda, and she’d rather be safe than sorry, so… off we go...

It takes longer than we expect… hitting “city traffic”… in Colorado Springs and Denver… along the main Highway 25, until we head NW along Highway 36 from Denver to Boulder. The snow-capped peaks of the Rockies beckon…. even in mid-May.

We check in uneventfully. The hotel is fine, nothing fancy, and after waiting for us most of the day, our Indonesian friend, Pinghan, meets us there almost immediately.

Where do we go first?

The Hotel Boulderado.

Hotel Boulderado Exterior. Images powered by <a href="https://iceportal.shijigroup.com" target="_blank" rel="noopener">Ice Portal</a>.

Since 1909, Hotel Boulderado has offered Rocky Mountain elegance in the heart of downtown Boulder. Experience the charm of a true historic landmark with Victorian heritage and modern mountain style. Located one block away from the famous Pearl Street Mall, encounter luxurious accommodations, exquisite amenities, and a passionate community.

You remember The Boulderado, don’t you?

No?

Oh, that was me, back in the 70s… where every summer I hung out in The Boulderado’s stylish Victorian bars and lounges with the likes of Allen Ginsberg (who I invited to MoMing, my dance-theater home base in Chicago, in 1975), John Cage, and modern dancers Barbara Dilley and Sally Bowden (who also came to MoMing).

Gino Cumeezi, Host Richard ?, Allen Ginsberg & Max the Clown, at MoMing, 1975

Well… guess what? It’s still there! The stylish Boulderado! In fine shape. With four classy restaurants and bars, not to mention the upstairs banquet room where they’re having a wedding the very evening the three of us arrive.

Looks like the Culver Hotel, says Pinghan, referring to the brown-wooded Victorian hotel that she and Surya used to work at in Culver City in LA.

And The Algonquin in New York… and all the other, old classy hotels that have survived “renovation and modernization”. First class all the way.

We slide downstairs into the shady basement “speakeasy”, where you have to knock three times for the bouncer to open the door. We order a couple of rounds, but unfortunately, Pinghan has to run back to her aunt’s birthday party.

Surya and I take a slighty inebriated breath of fresh air and walk through the city to Boulder Creek. It’s the freshest thing in town, even though signs woefully warn us about the history of the Creeks’s frequent historical floodings.

One thing for sure - “the famous Pearl Street Mall” wasn’t here 50 years ago, and to my taste, at least, it’s the most boring and conventional thing in town. Tourist-friendly yeah, but totally cloned from Santa Monica’s 2nd Street Mall, or any of a dozen others exactly the same around the country. “Total bummer,” as we used to say.

But once we wander back toward the hotel, through the old historical Boulder neighborhoods, with the old Victorian cottages still so well-kept, Surya remarks,

Reminds me of Echo Park… before all the gentrification.

I couldn’t agree more.

The next day, early Sunday morning, we head on up — still the 3 of us - into both Estes and Rocky Mountain National Parks. Along with The Boulderado, THIS is what I’ve come for - to show Surya (and Pingkan) - The Rocky Mountains.

But - dumb-ass me - has forgotten to bring my U. S. National Park Lifetime Senior Pass. It’s still in the drawer in Santa Fe. Fortunately, the friendly Park Ranger advises us to buy a Senior Annual Pass - which serves our purpose, a whole year’s Park admission - at a price cheaper than a single-day pass, while getting us into other national parks… down the road.

One habit I’ve formed over my many years traveling is that - before I take off into the wilderness of a national park - without knowing the first thing about what the hell I’m seeing - is - I go into the Visitor Center - and watch THE FILM. I know, a little touristy, I admit, but… well worth it!

And at Rocky Mountain National Park, this is the best park film I’ve yet to see. Beautifully filmed, poetically scripted, just an absolute wonder!

In fact, I’ve memorized the whole thing…. just so I could share it with you here:

Preserving over 400 square miles of wild and natural beauty, a powerful testament to America’s geographical, animal, and plant diversity, welcome to Rocky Mountain National Park.

Created by powerful uplifts and worn down by ice and water over millions of years, these broad valleys and steep canyons are continually eroded by the endless rush of water, which does much of the work here, an ever-changing natural quarry never at rest.

Since the end of the last ice age, about 10,000 years ago, the parks glaciers have gradually retreated, warmed by the earth’s changing climate, and melted back by the sun’s persistent and powerful rays.

The Rockies’ rugged peaks form a high ridge shedding precipitation in two directions. Here the headwaters of the mighty Colorado River begin their long journey to the Pacific.

The Parks’s wild landscape contains some of the most spectacular scenery on earth and provides an opportunity to restore our connections with the natural world.

This is a land of extremes, where mountains create their own weather. Nature weaves an intricate web of life among all things. The terrain invites exploration… and broadens experience.

At higher elevations, the spirit of the mountain prevails and offers awe and inspiration. Above 11,500 feet, the air thins and sunlight intensifies. The harsh climate makes it impossible for large trees to survive. This is the wind-swept realm of the alpine tundra.

Winter dominates most of the year. Winds race at more than 100 miles an hour. Deep snows and sub-freezing temperatures give way to a pleasant, but brief, summer. This high-alpine environment is a wondrous expression of life at altitude, where all living things have adapted to the demands of intense ultraviolet radiation, strong winds, and nighttime temperatures below freezing.

For at least 10,000 years, humans have been a part of this natural landscape. Paleo-Indians began their trail of human history, leaving behind signs of their scattered culture. Later the Ute traveled through the region, living off the land as early as 6000 years ago.
Ute traditions speak of the creator, “ Sinawa”, who told them,

“I will place you high in the mountains so that you will be close to me.”

After Spanish colonization in the early 1500s and subsequent Mexican independence in 1821, Arapahos arrived in the area in the mid-1800s. They tell stories of a great spirit called “The Man Above”, who made the mountains to separate them from their enemies.

Both Europeans and the American government upset the delicate balance of these native cultures. The allure of abundant wildlife drew fur trappers and traders to the Rockies. Wolves and grizzly bears were so aggressively hunted that their populations would never recover.

In 1820 Major Stephen H. Long approached these mountains from the eastern plains, and as such one of the tallest peaks in the Rockies, at 14,255 feet, now bears his name.

By the 1870s, the land was open for homesteading. Loggers and miners, followed by dude ranchers, came seeking a livelihood from nature’s bounty. Prospectors and miners came too looking for gold and silver, but soon discovered that the Rockies offered more hardship than gold.

But as more and more people discovered the wild beauty of the Rockies, tourism began to take hold, and the great Western expanse of endless frontier began to slip away. By the early 1900s, it soon became evident that without protection, the wild character and beauty of these lands would disappear forever. With the help of local champion and enthusiast Enos Mills, Rocky Mountain National Park became one of America’s first in 1915.

The U.S. National Park Service recognized, and continues to recognize today, that wild lands are vital to the human spirit, and to the diversity of life on earth, and that the movement to save our national treasures— in the name of future generations— must be integral and symbolic of the democratic ideals of a growing American nation.

Sidenote: I may, or may not, have an “audiographic” memory, but IF you believe I actually memorized the entire script of the National Park film, then you’re even a bigger Trules fan than my deceased mother and father!

Film Produced and Directed by Justin Radford. Associate Producer and Editor Ian Paugh. Director of Photography, Steve Ruth. Writers, Pattie Logan Korfhage. Narrator Michael Carroll. National Park Service, U.S. Department of the Interior.

The only problem with our road trip to Boulder is - we have to return on Monday, after just Saturday evening in town and all day Sunday in the park.

But hey, at least we did get away, and it’s supposed to be only a 6-hour drive home.

Although leave it to us… to…. stretch it until after dark on Monday.

Hell, why not? It’s my first trip out of Santa Fe in almost two years, and… Surya has to work… on Tuesday.

So yeah… we decide to take the slow road home… not Highway 25, the way we came through Denver, but… local 93 south to Golden, Colorado, past the Buffalo Bill Grave and Museum, then onto the even more local 470 south, where Pinghan has recommended we see the “world famous” Red Rock Park and Amphitheater.

From there, we merge onto the 285 SW past Will-O-the-Wisp, Bailey, and Fairplay, south to Saguache and finally Alamosa… from where use our U.S. National Parks Senior Annual Pass a second time - to enter The Great Sand Dunes National Park - just before the Visitor Center closes at 5 p.m.

This place is pretty spectacular, even though I’ve never heard of it before. It’s as if… in the middle of the Colorado Rockies, the mountain plains have just suddenly opened up - to host a small chunk of Africa’s Sahara Desert. And as you can see in the photo below, the winds are blowing over 50 mph, so that I have to hold on to my Zimmerman’s cowboy hat from Gallup, NM (yeah, there are rumors that it’s that Zimmerman: Bobby Z’s uncle of Western wear fame), while Surya’s hair is a wild and curly wind storm of its own.

Ok, now it’s 6:15 p.m., leaving us exactly 2 hours and 15 minutes to drive over the mini-Colorado-New Mexico mountain divide from Alimosa to Espanola - before it gets dark… when we can start counting on hitting crossing elk, sleeping cows on the road, and maybe even… mean and nasty desperados who can hold us up, just like in “the days of the Old West”.

We make it.. once again, over Surya’s compulsive Batak complaints and worry.

Until… here we are again… back in the comfortable “Land of Enchantment”…

where Surya thinks “everyone is old and boring”…

…except me,

of course,

Yours Trulesy

If you enjoyed this post, or any previous ones, please LIKE IT (by clicking the Heart), and LEAVE A COMMENT. It continues to help build an enthusiastic and interactive readership.

Rocky Mountain High

Road Trip from Santa Fe to Boulder, Colorado

Discussion about this post