The Road Trip, part 9

Day 8 -- Bedrock to Silverton, by way of Telluride

We got a woefully late start -- after 1:00 pm -- and our travel plans were complicated, pleasantly but drawing out the driving time, by Jenny taking us to Telluride. We parked the car just past the turnoff at Placerville, tumbled into the pickup, and journeyed down the valley toward the ski resort town. However, we did not drive into Telluride proper, but instead drove up the western side of the valley to a tiny burb known as Mountain Village.

Colorado's state transportation authority underwrites a free tramway from Mountain Village into Telluride, in part to keep down car traffic, and that this is also a more reliable means of public transportation in all forms of weather than buses would be. It takes three tram rides to reach Telluride -- one downhill to a shopping center, another up the next ridge (where riders can hop off or stay on), and then a long drop to Telluride at the bottom of the valley. We got off at both midway stops to take pictures. At the first stop, there was a metal grated staircase -- to facilitate snow melt, and provide good wintertime traction for ski booted pedestrians -- through which Carson espied a penny. I told him there was no way to get it (and we spotted a few other coins as well), and he reluctantly left it behind.

Soon were in town. It's a lot like other towns in the Rockies -- no tall buildings (three stories, maximum), everything rather cramped together, walking and biking the preferred methods of transport. At the southern end of the valley, high above the town, is Bridal Veil Falls, the headwaters of the San Miguel. While walking along, I found a dime (pointed it out to Carson, who recovered it with glee), and then spotted a couple of sticks, branches that had been trimmed or broken. I picked up the smaller one, while Amie took the longer, which made an ideal walking stick for her. Eventually we reached our destination, a candy store Jenny likes, decorated in a 1940s diner style, complete with soda fountain, ice cream bar, and grill (which wasn't serving at the time). It was interesting enough, and the kids picked out a few sweets (something that is getting tiresome from my point of view). Before getting back on the tram, I bought a pack of chewing gum, with a purpose. And then I found another dime in the street, which I gave to Amalie.

Riding back up the tram, we spotted a large rodent critter, sort of like a groundhog grande; we had sighted a few on the way down as well, and were not sure what they were. We rode through the top station this time, and when disembarking at the shopping center, asked the attendant. He said they were marmots, obviously a rather common thing to see.

I took Carson by the hand, walked over to the metal staircase, and asked if he remembered where the penny was. He did. I pulled out a piece of gum, chewed it up, and put part of it on the end of the stick. Thus equipped with a cutting-edge, high-tech durable currency recovery system, I poked the sticky stick down through the grate and, after a moment's manipulation, extracted the penny. Carson was impressed. We wandered down the stairs, spotting and recovering more coins as we could (the stick was only so long, and the last several inches of it was too thick for the grating). Dimes, pennies, even a nickel -- all were brought up from the dirty depths. Several passersby watched us, somewhat amazed. One even asked if we had lost something -- "no, finding things!" I replied.

I mentioned to Carson he should put all the coins in his pockets, because if he dropped one, it would go back down through the grate. Nonetheless, one penny did fall from his hand, and try though we might we could not re-spot it, so that one got away.

After about 20 minutes -- time I insisted was mine to squander, as I was having fun with my kids -- we could not see any more coins to recover. But then -- treasure! Val spotted a toy car! I wasn't sure the gum would be equal to the task, but as most are made of plastic these days (not metal like when I was a kid), it was sufficiently light to yield to our efforts. I pulled it up, Carson helped me maneuver it through the grate, and there it was -- a genuine Hot Wheels car. For Carson, all the coins immediately faded to background. He quickly analyzed the car and concluded that he had the same model, in a different paint scheme. And he was right; smart kid.

We lined up the coins and car for a trophy picture -- eight dimes, four pennies, one nickel, 89 cents total (plus one penny lost). Including the two dimes found in Telluride, we scored $1.09 and one Hot Wheels car.

(Advance notice, the toy car story gets better.)

We drove back to Placerville, where Val and I returned to our car. The kids stayed with Jenny as we drove to Ridgway, taking a long detour to see some valley property she owned, on which eventually may be a house. Finally splitting up in Ridgway, Jenny headed back to Bedrock and we turned south, hoping for Durango. But it was late, it was getting dark, I wasn't inclined to drive unfamiliar mountain roads at night, and so when we reached Silverton a little before 9:00 we decided to stay there if we could find a hotel room.

There are several hotels along the main road, none of which had rooms, and all of which have an unwritten policy that any "No Vacancy" sign shall not be readable from the car (one actually used a post-it note in the front door, despite the neon "OPEN" sign). Having struck out five times (in a town which, due to its size, surprised me that it had at least five hotels), we turned off in hopes of finding another possibility that had advertised itself back at the city line. We never found it, but did happen upon a bed & breakfast which was still open. The proprietor told me she had one room -- a limit imposed by the housekeeper feeling poorly -- that we could have, and she gave me a small discount since I told her we'd be leaving before breakfast. I took it. First floor, large bed, impeccable turn-of-the-last-century decor (the building, Alma House, is solid stone, built in 1898), shower/tub in the corner of the main room and not in the bathroom. There was also a sitting room with coffee and some leftover dessert bars, a hot tub in the garden, and wireless access. Despite the hour, we spoke a bit with the proprietor, Miss Pam, formerly a schoolteacher in San Antonio. This could not have been more perfect.

Val and Amie soaked in the spa (Carson said it was too warm) and sat outside a while. I logged on, blogged, helped Carson to bed (he asked to lie down, which is rare). I lugged a down mattress from an upstairs storage closet and set myself up on the floor, turning in after Val and the kids had crashed in the bed. It was plenty comfortable. A long day with a very surprisingly good ending.

If you are ever in Silverton, consider staying at The Inn Of The Rockies, 220 E. 10th Street. You'll be glad you did.