Just as I was setting up camp at 9500 feet up on top of Wolf Creek Pass, Duane Erickson came by and immediately drew a map to show me where his place is in Evanston and to invite me home. Talk about instant generosity! I'm at his place for two nights giving the legs some much needed rest (I'm beat.)

Duane is one of those unique people of multiple interests that you meet along the way. He's an ex-Mormon, but fanatical student of the Book of Mormon. He's an inventor of canoes and drying racks, an organizer, and a student of all kinds of theories about ancient cultures. His websites at bmsf.net and domehabitat.com tell it all. Lots of interesting things going on!

From the bottom of Baxter Pass I found my way to Bonanza, Utah. There's nothing there but a Gilsonite plant. Then a dirt road (or several of them) took me to Ouray (O-ray), which is on the Ute reservation. Ouray is where the White River flows into the Green River, and not far from where the Duchesne joins the Green. I followed the Duchesne north to Fort Duchesne, Roosevelt, Duchesne, and then up through many small towns to its source, near Wolf Creek Pass. It was all beautiful agricultural country, but with signs of oil and gas activity all around also.

On the way up Baxter Pass, right before you start climbing in earnest, is a place called Atchee. Nothing's there but the ruins of what looks like a concrete-construction church. There's not enough water to support a town there.

What was it? Was it a church? Who used it? Why is there graffiti all over the ruins? Who cares enough to go to this remote place to spray-paint graffiti?

I'd like to know more about Atchee.

My dad and brother Collin have told me about the old railroad pass (now a dirt road) that runs north from Mack, Colorado up to Bonanza, Utah, so I've been interested for some time. Collin succeeded in making me believe I wouldn't get lost and die, so I tried it. I rode the 40+ miles west from Palisade to Mack, Colorado, which is *just* east of the Utah border. It wasn't hard to find the beginning of the route, but that was the last marking. It was a decent road, though, with lots of gas pipeline activity showing. Not much traffic - I didn't see a car for 20 miles on either side of the pass.

It was a dry and hot day - I went through more than a gallon and a half of water just to get over the pass. And it turned out to be quite a pass. I have no idea how a railroad could have gotten over it - it looks too steep, and the switchbacks too sharp. At one point I thought I was doing OK with the climb but stopped for a rest. I pulled out my red tarp and laid it in the middle of the road and promptly fell asleep. Very refreshing. But that shows you how much traffic there is on the road and how energetic I actually was.

I camped that night at beautiful McAndrews Lake on the far side, still in Colorado. I was very happy to find water like that that I could filter for the coming day, and it was a beautiful place to camp.

I lived in Paonia in the early 1980's and stopped there on the way to visit a few people and thank others.

It seemed that I remembered a way to get over the mountains to Palisade directly from Paonia, and I found it on the map and checked with the Forest Service, and ... it works. But it was a gruelling pull up 3000-4000 feet on a dirt road (a good one). It was a delightful journey. I was happy to figure it out! (Stevens Gulch to Buzzard Divide Road to the Colbran-Silt Road, if you must know :-)

Michelle (Mik-ELL) Veltri was an assistant scoutmaster for my Boy Scout troop when I was 11 years old in Gunnison. I liked him then and I still like him now - even though we've had no real contact in the 37 years since!

Michelle and his mother, Myrtle are trying to run the family ranch, hanging on by the edge of their being. Right now they have just a few cattle (15?) and had to sell off quite a few for cash last year.

They're the last holdouts of old Crested Butte, the Crested Butte of Italian immigrants who worked in the coal mine and ranched a bit on the side. Even though the town is now a completely different place, Michelle still hangs on as a bit of a museum of the old place.

Here are Nancy's thoughts riding up to 12,000 ft Cottonwood Pass:

I ride up Cottonwood Pass
To the snowfields
From Buena Vista to Gunnison
I crank, I pedal, I rest
I ride to the snowfield.
I pedal, I spin, I eat and rest.
I ride to the snowfield
I join Randy; I join Mark
We ride on to the snowfield
Clawing, focus, bit by bit.
I ride in the snowfield.
Dandelions grow
Bonsai trees scratch a living, surviving in the snowfield,
as I ride

I ride in the snowfields
in the June sunny day
Sun encouraging me up the pass
Afternoon showers teasing
but never do they open up upon us, as I
ride in the snowfield.
The pass appears at the end of the snowfield,
I ride the line, the grade
Up past the trees, the flowers,
up into the snowfields.
I am strong, I can ride
I breathe the air from the snowfields.
I ride above the snowfields
I plant my feet
I am here.

Well, we made it to Gunnison and had a wonderful weekend of riding, but Nancy, Mark Shimoda and his wife Linda all just packed up in the car Linda drove over on Friday, and they're all headed back to real life. Now I start a new adventure, heading for the Northwest!