Subliminally, we must have known it wasn't going to happen and slept in on Monday morning. Sure enough, upon awaking from our mid-winter slumber and checking the CDOT website, it wasn't happening.
Silverton is a small town, and word gets around quick. Everyone we talked to said the same thing: maybe later today, there were lots of avalanches, they hope to have it open for a brief period, etc., etc.
The hotel lady, who is also the local ambulance driver, country coroner, and girlfriend of the local tow truck guy, was our best source of info. But there was no shortage of rumors and innuendo. While Katie was out running her obligatory eight miles (in knee deep snow), I confirmed the passes were actually closed. Nothing like a ten foot tall neon sign to tell you you're stranded.
I must say, it was great fun digging out my Ford Mustang ("with Traction Control") every morning so they could plow. I wish I'd taken some photos of the various snow removal equipment. The whole town turns into snow removal mode on days like these. Reminded me of my days in Mammoth. Here's our hotel:
Neither local ski area is open on Mondays (and the road to Silverton Mtn was still blocked by a 15-foot avalanche debris). But we went skiing anyways. Not your typical skiing. We found a local guide, and he told us where to go. He had to go shovel himself, otherwise I think he would have joined us.
The guide told us to go to the edge of town, cross and bridge, and start climbing. After an extended recon mission, I found the bridge.
This was possibly the most relaxing, scenic, ski tour I've ever been on. Here's a picture of Katie heading up the mellow jeep road. I took a lot of photos of Katie climbing up the hill. She always seems to have a substantial "list" to port (that's left, you land-lubbers). Not sure why that is.
As I mentioned earlier, Silverton is an old mining town. As proof of that, here's an old mine!
I call this one "snow smiley."
When it comes to nature, I love taking pictures of snow and water. Here's the best of both:
After about a 1-1/2 hour climb, we took off our climbing skins and skied down the powerline. On a day with "high" avalanche danger, this was safe to ski for a couple reasons: (1) this is a man-made path and (2) it is not avalanche prone because it has a funky fall-line and numerous stumps to anchor the snow. That last part made the skiing pretty challenging, though. Here's a picture of Katie-Bop:
After some coaching, I gave the camera to KT and here's what came out of it:
After our little backcountry skiing adventure, we headed straight back to the hotel, showered, and then across the street to Avalanche Cafe for some lunch. This place is aptly named, and even more appropriate, they sell shirts with a road map of all the passes and slide paths along route 550 (sorry, camera just came in from the cold and fogged up a little).
Somewhere around this time we heard a rumor that the road south would open between 4 and 5pm. With a hotel reservation starting Monday night in Telluride, and jones'ing for the opportunity to actually ride a lift up the hill between ski runs, we became determined not to miss the opening of the road. While Katie watched the CDOT website (and the BCS pre-game show of course) I went down to the service station at the end of town to watch the 10-foot high sign.
One of the pieces of the puzzle when it comes to opening the road is shooting the avalanche paths with a U.S. Army surplus howitzer. CDOT tows this thing around town to pre-arranged firing points. It just happened to pull out in front of me on the way to the service station. Don't believe me? Check out this photo:
Someone else apparently tailed the howitzer back to the CDOT garage and brought a report to the waiting throngs of people at the service station: they were done with avalanche control and the road would open in one hour. I raced back to the hotel and we packed up the cars. Sure enough, when we got back to the service station with both Mustang and Mercury Mariner, the road opened!
The trip to Telluride was an absolute adventure in and of itself. First of all: the drive south to Durango. We drove through numerous avalanche debris paths. One in particular was especially surreal: a tunnel through 30-feet of snow. We passed three gigantic snowblowers, still working feverishly to clear a second lane.
Even more harrowing was the road conditions in Durango. 3000 feet lower in elevation, the roads weren't covered in snow, but ice! I almost spun out the Mustang on more than one occasion, and Katie blew through two traffic lights because she couldn't stop. One time, in the rearview mirror, I watched her turn down a side street. A couple minutes later I got a call from her on my cell phone. "What happened?" I asked. "I couldn't stop, so I turned," was the reply.
After dropping off the Mustang at the Avis location in Durango (good riddance) we proceeded to Telluride. More harrowing road conditions, but overall not bad. Katie did a great job getting us there despite my never-ending critique of her driving skills. And the fact she was half-driving, and half trying to find the best AM station for listening to the BCS National Championships. To no avail. Eventually I made her turn off the static so we could listen to some music.
Naturally, just as we were pulling into Telluride an 18-wheeler jack-knifed and blocked the road into town. We got to wait another 15-minutes while they cleared a path around it so we could finally get to our hotel.
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