Day 10:

Spending the night in the Western Hotel in Ouray, Colorado is a unique experience. There are many things that make the hotel unique; the saloon played host to two female gun fights, the lobby contains the oldest AC generated light fixture in Colorado (the proprietor says in the world), and there is a bear hide on the wall that supposedly came from the last Grizzly shot in Colorado. Ranking alongside of these unique features are the creaky floors in room 15. The creaking of the floor produced by Fr. Doug walking around was so loud it woke me from a deep sleep, earplugs and all.

Western Hotel - Ouray, Colorado

After getting up Fr. Doug and I decided that since we had a long drive (about 9 hours) it would be good to get an early start. Originally we scheduled a Jeep tour the same day I reserved a room at the hotel (the Jeep tour company and the hotel are owned by the same family). We decided it would be better to cancel and get a jump on the day's traveling. When we came down stairs to check out and cancel the trip the only person in the lobby was a young man from Kyrgyzstan who was sweeping around the front desk. He told me to put the key on the counter and that would serve as my checkout. I wrote a note explaining why we needed to leave early and cancel the Jeep tour.

Wanting to go to Mass I was unsure of the time Mass was celebrated at the local parish.  As we made our way up to the church we saw a fellow driving one of the Jeeps used in the tour. We stopped him and explained our situation and apologized for canceling. He said he was just coming from Mass and while he was sorry we had to cancel we would do well to go and meet the parish priest, Fr. Nat.

The Jeep driver (who turned out to be the owner) said that would not want us to miss meeting his remarkable priest. With all honesty, I am grateful for his suggestion. Fr. Nat is a 72 year old Benedictine from Mt. Michael Abbey in Nebraska. Anyone - priest, religious, or lay person could learn a lesson from this truly remarkable man. Fr. Nat is all priest; he serves four parishes (the picture above is the interior of St. Daniel in Ouray), fixes the homes of his parishioners (he is very talented as an electrician and plumber), and is involved in countless other ministries. He celebrates five weekend Masses and drives over 250 miles per weekend between his parishes. On Saturday night he crosses the treacherous Million Dollar Highway in order to go to Silverton. If you have read the blog from yesterday you can read my description of this dificult road (to read what others have said, you can check out http://www.tripadvisor.com/Attraction_Review-g28927-d104148-Reviews-Million_Dollar_Highway-Colorado.html). I like off-roading and I was very nervous driving it in the summer. He drives it in the winter after dark. In eight years he has only missed one vigil Mass in Silverton due to an avalanche. On Sunday he has Mass at Ouray and drives and even more treacherous road to the famed ski resort town of Teluride, takes a nap in a cemetery, and then drives to another mission in the high desert. His missions are small, but his presence is the only way people in these parts can go to Mass. For instance the parish in Silverton has 11 families. He does all of this in a Ford Focus. He has had several prisoners paroled to his rectory where he helps them find a job and rebuild their lives. A very generous man, he gave us each a book about a priest who served in the same missions in the late 1800s. I told him he is really inspirational, he deflected the compliment by saying the priest in the book showed real heroism. The book looks good so far (it is chalked full of a rugged priesthood filled with snow, ice, rock slides, and hunting stories), but truth be told I was honored to meet Fr. Nat. Later in the day I celebrated a private Mass at St. Daniel's.

After meeting Fr. Nat we decided to see if we could go on the Jeep tour after all. When we told the owner that we needed to get an early start he told us that he could take us on a shorter trip and have us back sooner. After some time shooting the breeze in the lobby of the hotel we got into his modified 1978 Jeep J-10 and headed for the hills.





The Jeep tour included commentary that is worth driving to Colorado just to hear. While I typically have to fight my temptation to talk more than the tour guide, Gregg - our driver and the owner of the hotel and tour company, was so interesting that I just incessantly asked questions. On the way up the trail Gregg pointed out many remains of the once prosperous mining activity in the area. Beginning in the 1880s silver was mined in these hills. Towns sprung up and thousands of people lived in these mountains. To try and imagine how they lived is nearly impossible. Above us there are roads, carved into the rocks that are so narrow it blows your mind to think about it. Drops several thousand feet are twenty inches from your buggy wheels, rock slides, and snow were part of the reality of the early silver miners. In addition to all of that stamp mills ran 24 hours a day pounding rocks, the sound of the machines bouncing off of the then barren rocks.

To put this in perspective, take a look at the picture to your right. About halfway up the cliff you will see a line. That is an old wagon road. Mind you this picture was taken from our road, several hundred feet below. Moreover we were on the edge of a cliff hundreds of feet above basin floor.

With the decline in silver prices in the 1890s the towns in this area were deserted.  After this happened one man, Thomas Walsh, bought over 900 acres of this land for next to nothing. While up here he discovered gold by accident (it is a long story), and as a result gold mining in this area boomed (they are still actively mining gold here today). However while gold took over, the towns never came back and became ghost towns. One such is Sneffels, which we were fortunate enough to visit today. The two pictures below show the old general store and the stamp mill. If you look closely you can see two wheels and a cam shaft. The cam shaft turned and pulverized rock in order to harvest the silver. Many of the old mine tunnels are completely accessible today (though very dangerous).

After leaving the trails we headed back to town where we had lunch with Gregg and looked around the historic town before departing. What was going to be a short tour took several hours longer than expected. Yet, Gregg made the trip so enjoyable that it was truly worthwhile. If you ever find yourself in this part of Colorado, please avail yourself of Gregg's services.

Ouray is the home of the court house scene from John Wayne's classic True Grit. The Sheriff was kind enough to let me go up to the court room where Marshall Reuben J. "Rooster" Cogburn testified about how many men he killed and showed that he was a man who possessed "true grit." The Ouray County Courthouse must be the only hall of justice that proudly displays a cardboard cutout of the Duke.

All in all Ouray is a nice visit. It is pleasant place if you would want to see a town that, while having some commercialized aspects, is for the most part a simple small town.  If one were into trout fishing, extreme skiing, ice climbing, hot springs, or four wheeling this place would be ideal. Ouray has first-class scenery and abundant wildlife. Sadly I didn't see any big horn sheep, however I did see several bucks in town (presumably they were here to do their shopping).

After leaving Ouray (way too late), we headed for Ely, Nevada. This is a 9 hour drive part of which involves driving on US 50 though Nevada, the loneliest highway in America. As we headed north out of Ouray we went through Ridgeway, Colorado where the house of Mattie Ross from True Grit is located. It is out of the way and we were short on time so we had to forgo seeing this landmark. Along the way we passed traveled between Delta, Colorado and Grand Junction, Colorado. On US 50 a few miles from Delta Charles Kuralt did a great story about a Juniper tree that grew alongside of the road. The tree grew in an area so hostile that it was a marvel to behold. Kuralt explained how people decorated it each year. He tied in some good reflections about Christmas at the end of the segment. I always wanted to see the tree; I found out it no longer exists. Sadly one devotee wanted to light up the tree so he hooked it up to a generator which unfortunately caught the tree on fire. Thankfully a new tree was planted.

When you hit Grand Junction the scenery changes again, and becomes notably arid. Crossing into Utah is like nothing I have ever seen. Perhaps Utah should change their motto to read, "Utah: You could have done better," or "Utah: Just like going to Mars without the hassle of becoming an astronaut." It is a foreboding desolate landscape.                                                                                   

US 50 after Delta, Utah (there is also a Delta, Colorado on the same road) is truly a lonely stretch of highway. Hundreds of miles seem to go by without a building. It was dark, the road had no traffic, it began to rain, and there was a full moon. The winds blew across the vast desert. An oncoming car approached and right before we passed it turned off its lights. Fr. Doug told me that it is an urban legend that if that happens the car will end up behind you and you will be killed. Suffice to say it was a great trip.  We almost hit a coyote, and we saw a solitary man standing alongside the road with no apparent desire for a ride miles from a town.

Finally arrived at our destination for the night, Ely, Nevada. Ely is an old mining town that is known for gambling. It claims to be the "friendliest city on the loneliest highway." Tonight we are staying at the Nevada Hotel and gambling hall. The Nevada Hotel was once the tallest structure in Nevada (Nevada must have had shirt buildings) and is a great deal. For $24.50 per person you get a great room and all kinds of casino perks. Since I had no Internet access last night I wrote two entries this evening. Due to the fact we got here late I find myself finishing this entry at 4:00 AM. Sorry for the shoddy workmanship of the blog. Goodnight.