Morning photo: Americana

Roadtrip rehash

sdfg

Chugwater, Wyoming.

FRISCO —Re-editing some pics from a big summer road trip two years ago — two dogs, three people, a beat-up 1998 Nissan Pathfinder and about 6,000 miles through Wyoming, South Dakota, then down the Mississippi all the way to the mouth of the great river, and finally, southwestern Florida … fishing, fried pickles and an awesome dog beach where both the dogs enjoyed their first (and so far only) swim in the ocean.

Back along the Gulf Coast, San Antonio, west Texas during big summer heatwave and drought of 2011, with temps in 100-and-teens, and into New Mexico just in time to watch the Las Conchas Fire erupt north of Santa Fe. All that’s left now are some pretty amazing memories, and, of course, a LOT of photos. (more…)

Fathers Day: Traveling with the kid

The ultimate ‘Are we there yet?’ trip …

Dylan fishes Center Lake, in the Black Hills of South Dakota, where the theme song for our road trip was definitely the Beatles Rocky Racoon.

By Bob Berwyn

ENGLEWOOD — As any dad knows, the best gift of all — better than a tie, a card, a fishing pole or even a box of candy — is just spending time with your children, and this year, I’ve been especially blessed in that department, as I’m in the midst of a three-week road trip with son, my girlfriend and our two dogs. So far, we’ve covered 10 states and 3,500 miles, including a swing up through the Black Hills and Badlands, a journey along the Mississippi down the Great River Road and a meandering path along the Gulf Coast, from the Mississippi Delta all the way down to southwestern Florida.

It’s not like we haven’t traveled before, but most of our trips have been by plane to foreign lands, which is fun, but nothing like 10 to 12 hours a day in the car, which makes for some intense one-on-one time, even with other people and dogs as a buffer.

So far, so good … and we’re getting a real taste of the breadth of the country, along with sampling some mighty fine BBQ, some good southern fishing holes and a few awesome longboard runs.

At times, I’m sure my 13-year-old wishes he were somewhere else, like with his friends back in Summit County. But at other times, we’ve actually had some good and serious talks. And sometimes, we’re just plain goofy, whether it’s setting off fireworks or skateboarding through Vicksburg, Mississippi. Check out the following video and a few more shots from along the great American road.

And lucky for us, Leigh is about the best, most patient travel partner in the world, completely tolerant of all our male hijinks and always ready to share a joke and a laugh — not to mention driving duties. Roll on, Road Trip USA!

(more…)

Morning photo: Colorado road trip

Apple blossoms, bluegrass and honeybees on the West Slope

When Crested Butte alumni get together at Appleshine Farm for the 'Blossom Party', you're gonna find a plethora of Eurovans, the occasional 'Motor-coach (careful! keep the kids away from the parking brake!), and Saab wagon...not to mention the odd late-50's Ford pick-up.

Story and photos by Matt Krane

SUMMIT COUNTY —Three hours from Breckenridge, a good bit of it in 75 MPH Interstate zones (90 doesn’t feel so fast, there), is a land full of apple blossoms, greening cottonwoods, temperatures in the low eighties, and SO MUCH oxygen, you can get dizzy.

In barely more than 24 hours, I’d transported myself to what felt like the tropics. Cottonwoods were getting past the leafing-out stage, every bunch of apple blossoms had honey bees doing their dance. The thick aspen forests atop the Grand Mesa were budding-they will not be far behind. I had the pleasure of reconnecting with old friends from the Roaring Fork Valley, and all kinds of new ones from Crested Butte, among them some fine musicians. Knowing many of the same songs, I had no problem slithering in as a sideman/vocalist/soloist on the ’36 National ‘Resophponic’. In fact, within hours, I became known, not so much as M. Krane, but as ‘the Resonator.’ Thanks to Cresson and Marion, kids and dogs of all shapes and sizes, and new friends. Until the fall. (more…)

Travel: Karma and climate change in the Southwest

Classic landscapes, classic roadtrip …

A double rainbow over Monument Valley was a good omen for our Southwestern road trip.

By Bob Berwyn

I don’t know if minor car repairs count as a relationship test. But when our car battery dies in front of the Great Sand Dunes National Park visitor center, we aren’t too worried. Well-stocked for a week-long swing through the Southwest, Leigh and I decide to let the car “rest” while we stroll around the nature center, watching evening shadows play on the dunes. We snack on salami, cheese and chocolate. Our cooler is full of goodies, and we team up with a no-worry, we’ll-make-it vibe — not to mention a hefty boost from AAA — to handle the glitch smoothly.

Great Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado.

Great Sand Dunes National Park, Colorado.

We reach Alamosa just before AutoZone closes and replace the battery with the help of a few loaner tools, shoving them back through the door as the manager locks up and waves goodnight. The Nissan starts no problem, so we fill the tank and U-turn back to the highway, munching cheesy popcorn, trying to catch the Rockies on AM, then blasting Neil Young as we veer through Crestone to our national forest campsite tucked up against the base of the Sangre de Cristos.

“Somewhere on a desert highway, She rides a Harley Davidson …”

It’s all good, we decide, crawling into sleeping bags within earshot of North Crestone Creek. Comet curls up at our feet. The wind rustles through lush aspens, whispering a sweet lullaby in the night air. (more…)

Weekend Travel: Tofu, brown rice and deep powder in Taos

Ryder Kenney takes the plunge off the Juarez cornice on a bluebird day at Taos Ski Valley. PHOTO BY BOB BERWYN.

Road Trip: Taos visit brings back memories of tofu, brown rice and deep powder.


By BOB BERWYN

When I moved to Taos for a three-season stint back in the early 1980s, I was on a quest.

I had just spent a couple of years living at a lighthouse near San Francisco running a youth hostel. It was a great gig, but far from the mountains — too far. As I plotted my escape from the Bay Area, I scoured all the ski literature I could find and narrowed my choices down to Jackson Hole and Taos. I was looking for steep and deep. I was looking for a place with some ski culture. I wanted to be surrounded by people for whom skiing was more than just a diversion or holiday pastime.

I road-tripped to northern New Mexico in my $600 beater van, a puke-green 1975 Ford Econoline that just kept on rolling through the golden aspens of late summer, delivering me safely to the ski valley parking lot just as the summer musicians were packing up their tubas and cellos. Nobody bothered me there, and I blissfully hiked for days in the Wheeler Peak Wilderness Area to get in shape for the season. (more…)

Follow

Get every new post delivered to your Inbox.

Join 5,552 other followers