Tag Archives: Spanish Peaks


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David and I have been having adventures.

This last weekend we went south on 25. At Walsenburg we took a county road along a creek to La Veta. Drove by skeletons of some old town in the shadow of the Spanish Peaks. The native peoples called the peaks, the breasts of the world. Looked for and hiked up through the Great Dikes of the Spanish Peaks. The great Dikes are a geological world wonder. http://www.sangres.com/mountains/spanpks/#.U7wBh7FhsTA,

Out of Cuchura, we ate lunch with big ants in a forest of oak which became aspen. So many wildflowers this year and it continues to rain. After a few hours hiking switchbacks we continued driving south on 12. Checked out Blue lake on the east slope of the Sangre De Cristo Mountains and had a picnic dinner next to the rushing Cucharas river. Driving south we continued past small lakes, coal mines and ranching communities, along the beautiful Purgatoire river, stopping along the way to check out future fishing and hunting possibilities. Spent the night in Trinidad, a depressed border town made mostly, and not surprisingly of red brick. Just north of town we saw the old domed brick ovens.

Saturday we took 25 north turned right at Walsenburg, 160 to Alamosa, 285 south to Antonio and 17 west into the Rio Grande Forest and the South San Juan Wilderness. Fished Elk Creek, David pulled in one brook trout. Followed 250 along a fairly bad road for 3 hours along the Conejos River, so happy so beautiful. Fishes some more, never finding out what the fish wanted to eat. Once we got over Stunner pass we began following the Alamosa River which we found out was highly acidic, caused by mining and the natural geology. By early evening we were almost back up Alamosa way, driving through flat open irrigated farmland and Amish.

This is where you do not eat in Alamosa. First hint no one in the restaurant, dirty menus and stale chips. David asks for a small cup of the red and green chili. The green is not green and the red is not red and they both taste like watered down floured gravy, we give the bewildered waitress a few bucks and leave. We ended up with some good tacos around the corner.

Straight up 17 north an hour away was Joyful Journey Hot Springs, where we had a room and 110 degree hot water in pools looking east at the Sangre De Christo mountains. We soaked a long day of fishing and driving away watching the sky start to rest and the night hawk’s mating dance.