A western tour with my Italian friends !

The idea of this 2010 western USA trip actually started in 2009 in Scotland. If you have read my blog about TGO challenge then you know about me meeting a group of hikers from Milan, Italy. If you haven’t read it then get your butt over to that blog spot first and we will wait!

I found out in Scotland that my Italian hiking buddies had so many memories of the good old USA from western movies rattling around in their nogins. The Italians had visions of everybody and their dog wearing a ten gallon cowboy hat west of the Mississippi river. Together as we hiked across the heather in Scotland I came up with the idea of my new friends visiting the west, with your’s truly as their guide.

In the past almost everybody I have meet traveling around the world hardly ever keep in contact with me after I have returned to Denver Colorado. Maybe I should use more deodorant or switch toothpaste! The Italians not only kept in contact with me but the idea of coming to our crazy country seemed to grow like the national debt on their agenda.

When I got home to Denver I spent a few days getting my act together as a guide of the old west, then I e-mailed my ideas and the budgets to the Italians. I would rent a large vehicle, big enough for the six Italians to fit in comfortably, but small enough that it wouldn’t take up two lanes with flashing lights.

All the planets and stars seemed to be in line for the winter western travel to start on February 8th. Our travels would begin in Las Vegas Nevada, so we would end up at my home in Denver. On Feb 8th I walked to the car rental offices in a blizzard, I thought what a way to start a trip. I had all the camping gear and coolers loaded in the Suburban and was on the road by 9:00 am. My first destination was going to be Summerlin a suburb of Las Vegas. I had remodeled a home there in 2008 for a friend of mine and had a set of keys to the refurbished home. By 9:00 pm I drove into the driveway in Vegas and the first part of my our travel log had just begun. My own vehicle is a 1993 truck with close to 3 hundred miles almost as much as it’s owner and they both have as many aches and pains. After driving 900 miles I realized my rented Suburban also had all the latest and greatest conveniences that my truck lacks like air conditioning, cruise control, CD player and a smooth rides instead of the feeling of riding in a wheel barrow.

The next day Feb 9th, I drove to Trader’s Joes a grocery store and picked up a few supplies and three cases of a cheaper wine named accordingly Two Buck Chuck’s. Dave Guzy a friend from Denver had planned on joining the group for the first part of the travel and he was due into Las Vegas this evening.

Feb 10th was the day my Italian friend would fly into Vegas and then we would have a great reunion party. I knew they were really nervous since most had never been to the USA, and they weren’t even sure I would be there to pick them up. Dave and I arrived early at the airport and waited with probably the same amount of nervousness. At 8:00 pm after many hours of flying time under there belt my group arrived. Biagio was the only one that spoke English and I had been e-mailing him during the past year. Giorgio was single after losing his wife a few years ago and I had meet him in Scotland. Pierino was also in Scotland but this time he had his wife with him. Allessandra was going to stay at home in Italy and miss out on our adventure until I mentioned that I could find Pierino a nice substitute Indian wife here. Another woman named Afra was also in Scotland but this time she had her husband named Melchiorro was with her. She also had a cast on her leg after a skiing accident back home. Everyone had a giant smile on their faces as we waited for the luggage to arrive.

I drove the vehicle back to our temporary home with lots of questions coming from the seats behind me. All questions and answers had to go through Biagio. So it took a few minutes to go through a series of questions. The group was completely blown away with the beauty of the remodeled home that would be our base camp for a few days. Tracy and Bob the owners had gone over the top with the decorations and furnishings. Our group sat around the table and drank wine and talked. After all their travels the group just wanted to find a clean warm bed. The house had three bedrooms in the upstairs. The Italians would sleep upstairs and Dave and I would sleep down. I picked the couch but Dave sleep on the first floor landing which was just big enough for his sleeping bag.

The next morning after coffee and toast we headed to Red Rock Canyon. The canyon is part of the national park service and I had a pass. The rock formations were deposited millions of years ago from wind blown sand dunes. The weight of the piled up sand compressed it into mountains of colorful mountains. The colors with the morning sun bearing down on it was a picture perfect moment. We all went on a few hikes in the canyons, with lots of questions about the Mohave Desert and it’s plants and animals. Than we got back into our machine and drove north to Valley of Fire, the first state park in Nevada. The park was the setting for the first Star Wars film. The rock formation and Native American petrography on the rock walls was a big hit for all of us. A series of Indian art that tells a story in the life of these ancient people is scratched into the dark sandstone walls. As we ate our first picnic lunch by a giant rock formation a Red Tail Hawk came swopping down and had chipmunk for his lunch. Later I took the group on a cross country hike to the top of one of the red rock mountains looking for Desert Big Horn Sheep.

I could tell that everyone was feeling like they where part of the scenery, like they belonged there. As we drove back to the huge city of Vegas, my group had questions about the other part of Nevada the glitter and lights of downtown Lost Wages, I mean Las Vegas. I tried to tell them about the phoney baloney part with all the smoke and mirrors. But I also knew everybody had to experience the night life for themselves.

Everyone put on clean cloths and we head down to the Vegas Strip. Remember what ever happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, if you take enough penicillin! As I drove closer the lights of sin city lite up the sky. I found a free parking spot at the Bally Casino. We all walked thru a make believe French Village in the Bally casino with real life slot machines and other equally easy places to spend our money. As we stepped into the street, the night air was filled with the sound of craziness, like only Vegas or New Orleans during Mardi Gras can generate. A homeless man that must have been 6'8" was wearing a red wig and a red bra and little else, as he stood along the curb. He was holding a dirty black felt hat in front of his waist hoping people would drop money in it. Right above his belt buckle someone had sprayed with red paint on his bare hairy chest a unique comment. “I AM A WHORE FOR MONEY!” Luckily five of my Italian friends couldn’t read English. Biagio on the other hand got very close and then turned with a puzzled look on his face and asked about the meaning of the words. I was trying to come up with a explanation when three other crazies got into a loud argument. Two of the rascals had been handing out cards with a phone number that guaranteed you a woman in your room in 15 minutes. Another guy with smoke coming out of his ears yelled that he had called the number and no one had shown up. “It’s false advertising!” he kept yelling at the two pimps. All this took place in the first ten minutes of our Vegas visit.

We continued to walk around looking at the make believe and the plastic people for another few hours. I could tell everyone had seen enough to prove that the place was a waste of our time and energy. We all walked to the car and drove home in silence, but for the next three weeks, every day someone would ask a question about Las Vegas. My friends came to the conclusion, if they didn’t like someone in Italy, they would send them to Vegas for a week!

Everyone was glad to have Vegas in our rear view mirror as we headed north towards Utah. Our first stop would be Zion National Park. We stopped at a small town for lunch and this would turn out to be quite fun in it self. With six people talking at the same time, I would take the orders of food from everyone and then I would tell the waitress. Most time though we had a lovely picnic for lunch with cold cuts, cheese and wine. In this same Mormon town we stopped by the library so we could all use the computers for e-mail. The library folks were so friendly and helpful, it made the experience very nice and fast.

By 5:00 pm we checked into a motel. I then rounded everybody up so we could drive thru Zion as the sun went down on the beautiful red rock canyon walls. The Virgin River has cut a canyon out of solid red sand stone and my group had never seen anything like it. After taking a few hundred pictures and getting our mind wrapped around a magical place, we found our way back to our motel. Earlier I had found a large room to have a place to drink some wine and sample some cheese before dinner. As we all sat around a large wooden table I could tell my friends didn’t know what was about to happen. “Why would someone eat food before dinner and ruin their appetite?” they asked. The more food I brought out the more they pushed the food towards me. It was a case of one culture learning about another culture.

The next morning we all got suited up with back packs and hiking boots. Afra with her crutch, would stay behind in the valley of Zion while the rest of us would walk the trail up to Angel’s Landing. We left the parking lot and headed across the Virgin River by way of a bridge. The trail is like a giant serpent with us on it back as it follows the river bed and then goes up the mountain. The farther we all walked up the mountain the greater the view became. I had bought ice grippers that can be attached to our boots and within a few hours we needed them. The trail was facing the north side and many boots had stomped the snow into a iceberg big enough to sink the Titanic. The trail was a steep toboggan run, with one false move and we would find all of us at the bottom of the hill. After we climbed along the steep trail we found ourselves at a saddle in the mountain. With a restrooms and a place to sit down and have a snack. I had walked and crawled on this trail last year, so I knew it would get real tricky after this point. Years ago some very nice rangers had attached chains along the trail at waist height that would help to keep hikers from sliding off the mountain side, it was that steep. Dave and Alessandra wisely decided to stay behind at our snack spot. Ice and snow was under our feet as we climbed along the mountain side with a 500 foot drop into the valley below if we lost our grip on the cold chain. Within a hour we came to the next saddle and ahead of us was a knife edge covered with more ice and snow. The slope was at a 30 degree slant and we could see a couple hikers working their way back down to us. The woman wore tennis shoes and the man had rubber boots on his feet. Last year when I climbed up this section there was half as much snow and it was just crazy with one false step and you would become part of the valley below. With the 500 foot drops on both sides the Italians could not believe that the rangers would allow anybody without the proper climbing equipment to walk this section. I tried to explain that in America, most people don’t like the government’s involved in their business and it was up to the individual if they wanted to kill themselves.
“But doesn’t the government rangers have to come in for a rescue or pick up the pieces after a accident and then pay the medical bills of these fools?” asked Biagio

We all worked our way back to Dave and Alessandra waiting patiently along the trail. When we arrived I noticed Alessandra talking to her husband Pierino. Then they talked with Biagio, as they walked towards me, with a smile on their face. It seems Dave trying to be friendly had asked Allessandra to come sit by him as they waited for our return, in Italy that is a come on for “why don’t we have a relationship”

After eating lunch we walked farther up the trail towards large rock formation, with out the danger of sliding to our death. After a minor snowball fight, we all turned around and head back to Afra and our ride to the visitor center, that was run by the park service. The center is completely heated by the sun and is a piece of functional art work in it’s design.

This time we had dinner in the same room with the large wooden table and all had plenty to eat and drink. This is also a good time to explain about the Italians eating habits, they would never think of over drinking or eating. If they had a glass of wine it was only half full and then the next glass was half water and half wine. They had never been drunk in their lives! Dinner time was never before 8:00 pm. After dinner we would all sit around and they would talk about the food and how it could have been improved or how much they enjoyed it. Biagio told me sometimes that the dinner at home would start at 8:00 pm and then they would talk until 1 or 2 am. I found out to my delight that they treat meal time and the food as a sacred thing. Where American’s eat just to get it done with so we can all do something else more important, like stare at the television. The dinners and picnics that followed in the next weeks was always a great time to talk about our days activities.


The next morning we all piled into the car and headed to Bryce Canyon. The road thru Zion follows the river bottom and then winds it way thru a long tunnel onto the mountain above. This tunnel was carved out of solid red rock by the CCC, in the 1930's. These workers left port holes cut into the tunnel that lets light and a killer view of the valley below. The bright sun light coming through these port holes only added to the magic of this special place.

The Utah landscape of the mesa as we exited the tunnel with red rocks and desert plants was very unreal to my Italian friends. We stopped at one place that had a large arch cut out of rock and it made a natural bridge over the road. All my friends had their picture taken under the rock formation and than we broke out the wine and cheese and had a picnic. By noon we arrived at Bryce Canyon that had gotten a boat load of snow during the winter. The rangers had shoveled a path of waist deep snow in order to get the visitors closer to the edge where the best views where. We traveled these path ways like rats following a maize. It was well worth the effort since the views of the valleys below are beyond description. My new friends had seen the vision of Bryce Canyon on there travel station at home but they loved the real view better.

A ranger had told us about the town of Kanab in southern Utah and it had a wonderful old hotel. The movie stars that had made movies in this area, had used the hotel as their temporary home. The prices where very reasonable and every wall in the lobby had an old autographed photo from all the movie stars that use to stay there. Since the Italian’s where all brought up with western movies, just the thought of John Wayne staying here sent my friends into orbit. I had the feeling that the ghosts of a few stars where still wondering the hall ways! After getting settled most of the group decided to walked around town and with one eye open for a place to eat dinner. We found a Italian restaurant that had been in town since the town was founded. An old tin type picture of the chef owner’s grandmother that had immigrated from Italy in 18800's and had started the place hung above our table. She seemed to be watching our every move and wanted our praises. The soups and pasta salads had to be tried out before ordering to make sure they where like momma used to make back home and the samples meet with the groups approval.

The next morning we all headed southern towards the Grand Canyon. I found a dirt road that lead to Lake Powell and the lake was a grand sight with a mill pond reflection of the rock formations on the far shore. A county sheriff had pulled up to the lake side and was out walking his patrol dog, when we drove up. Like a chorus line the Italians slowly worked there way over to the patrol car and the policeman. In a matter of minutes each one was sitting in the car and or standing beside the patrolmen having their picture taken. I walked over after a few minutes and said to the smiling sheriff. “At least they didn’t ask to shoot your gun!”

By noon we arrived at the Glenn Canyon Dam and took a short tour of the area. In the visitor center I walked over to the information desk and told the ranger about my Italian tourist. “Wait a minute we have a ranger that speaks Italian!” she said. Allen walked up and he not only spoke Italian but he was a Navajo Indian. We found out that Allen was a Mormon missionary and had been sent to Italy to convert a few people to Joseph Smith’s way of thinking. Which must have been a uphill battle since most Italian’s are Catholic and your close to the home office in Rome! He talked to all my friends in Italian while we worked our way through wine and cold cuts for lunch. They had many questions about his culture and then Glenn Dam itself.

By late afternoon we arrived at the entrance gate to the Grand Canyon National Park. I must have stopped fifty times for my group to take pictures of the vast Grand Canyon as I drove along the rim. I parked the car at the Bright Angel Lodge and we all walked into the building with many different thought running through our minds. My friends wanted to see all the art work on the walls and then go through the back doors and see the canyon itself. I on the other hand needed to check in at the front desk for our rooms and arrange to have mules carry down some of our camping gear into the canyon for the 2 nights of camping. The rooms worked out nicely but we missed the cut off time by 15 minutes for the mules for tomorrow. We would have to carry all our supplies like little burro. “There isn’t any problems only solutions!” I tried to arrange a mule for Afra to be carried down in the canyon because of her bum leg. I was told she had to go see Poncho the mule driver and see if he thought it was OK to have a mule carry her down. After the reservation clerk found out that Afra only spoke Italian we didn’t have to find Poncho. I guess Poncho can speak mule but not Italian!

Since Mel and Afra where not going down in the canyon I reserved a room for 2 extra nights since we would be camped out in the bottom of the canyon with the coyotes. Before dinner I brought the camping gear, all tents and sleeping bags from Dave’s truck . I made sure everybody would be covered with tents and bags. Then I distributed our camping food so everyone had enough to eat. Some of our meals would be bought at the bottom of the canyon at the Phantom Ranch Lodge.

The next morning after breakfast at the park cafeteria we all headed to the trail head. I had a camping permit for 8 people but we only needed one for 6. Dave Guzy had a extra permit so he walked to the ranger station and tried to turn his in. After waiting a hour he finally returned without any luck on turning in his permit.

The Bright Angel trail that would lead us into the canyon was very slippery with several inches of a ice packed snow. We attached the steel cleats on the bottom of our shoes so we wouldn’t all slide down the trail into the Colorado River. Each and everyone of us had sore necks from looking around at all the wonderful sights as we followed the trail down. Within a hour, the snow had melted off the trail and we didn’t needed our cleats. The farther you walk down in the canyon the warmer the temperature. By noon we had made it to Indian Gardens where there was fresh water and a picnic table to eat lunch. The sun was warm and it felt real good to finally be down in the canyon after months of planning.

After lunch the trail wound it way down to the river bottom. The rocky canyon had a trail chiseled out of solid stone and it made quite a back ground for our travels. The sight of the Colorado River was something all of us where glad to see. The Italian’s had a tear in their eyes since they had heard of the river their whole lives and now were standing beside the river in real life. I walked ahead and got across the steel bridge spanning the river about 30 minutes ahead of the rest of the gang. I walked to the camp ground and dropped my pack at a perfect campsite. A ranger was walking around the site and I introduced myself and explained about the Italians. “Oh you’re a guide!” the ranger said. “No I meet this group in Scotland and I am just showing them the west..” I said. With a wink in his eye he said “Right!” I didn’t have time to talk more to Ranger Dick so I walked back to the bridge and guided my group to the sites.

After a little wash up we walked up to the lodge where the meals are served and waited to be called in for grub. The picnic tables are long and covered with all types of food. The numerous hikers that are sitting at the table are as different as the food. It is always fun to find out about the different people and their plans for the canyon. After dinner the cook allows the hikers to sit at the tables after they have been cleared and talk while washing the dust from the trail with a few beers.

The next morning the breakfast is served at 6:30 am. The Italians wanted to know if I could talk to the cooks about changing the time to maybe 8:00 am. After a great breakfast we all head up the north canyon trail to Rainbow Falls. We had a lunch spread out by the multi colored falls and it was a great place for a picnic. The cold water was to inviting for some who stuck their heads under the water spilling off the cliffs above.

When we made it back to the campsite another group had shown up that had walked all day and part of night down the North Rim trail. They had post holed snow up to their waist for many miles. They where so tired they just went to bed. Another group that was heading back up the Bright Angel trail had two liters of red wine and they didn’t want to carry it out so they made some Italian I knew very happy.

The next morning we all got our packs ready for the walk back up the hill by way of Kabab trail. I noticed my permit wasn’t on my tent any more and I thought maybe the wind blew it off. Just then the ranger showed up and wanted to talk to Dave and I at his office. Dave thought he had been seen peeing in the bushes at night, but it was nuttier then that. I had to wait outside while the ranger talked to Dave in his office. I was just dressed in a light shirt and was freezing my butt off as I sat in the shade. Finally the ranger and Dave came out of the office and the ranger gave both of us tickets for knowing each other but not sharing a camping spot. It all boiled down to the fact Ranger Dick thought Dave and I where outfitters without a license but he couldn’t prove it. He even had a ranger on the top of the canyon check us out on the internet. They found out Dave worked for the Dept of the Interior the same as they did. They found out that I was listed under the Screaming Weasel a rock band in Chicago. The whole thing was like a Saturday Night Live skit!.

After a few hours of waiting we all headed up the long trail. Another steel bridge crossed the Colorado River and then we all walked through a rock tunnel. The climb was a long haul with many stops and plenty of pictures taken. At the top was a bus that would take us back to the hotel rooms and warm showers. But before Dave and I had chance to feel warm water on our back side I wanted to go to the ranger station and try and get the ticket fixed or explained or both. The head ranger was understanding and was going to look into the while affair. Which was good enough for me, since a warm shower and meal had my name on it. Later on while we drove away from Grand Canyon the ranger called on the cell phone and said he was voiding the ticket.



The next morning we head out of the Grand Canyon with a Hopi Indian reservation on our mind. Our first stop was for lunch at Tuba City in the Navajo Reservation. I found a perfect restaurant with lots of Indian cars all around. We all walked in and I noticed an Indian with a Code Talker jackets on and about the right age for that type of jacket. I explained to Biagio about the Code Talker, how they help the Army with communicating in their Navajo language and the Japanese could not breaking the code during the Second World War. After that Biagio couldn’t wait to talk to this fella. I walked over and explained to this Indian about our little Italian group and he agreed to talk to them. Picture and hand shakes where exchanged. I also explained to our group about how the Navajo and the Hopi don’t get along and don’t talk to one about the other. Dave must have forgotten and went outside the restaurant and ask a Navajo man the directions to the Hopi Reservation. “Let see here you go north on highway 160 until you come to Kayenta and then you take a dirt road for 25 miles!” he said. Which is the complete opposite direction!

The afternoon sun followed us as we drove up onto Second Mesa, the home of the Hopi. The village homes is kind of scattered without any rhyme of reason. I had met a few tribe members last year and I was hoping they might magically appear in front of the car. The muddy road wound around the stone houses and there was a little surprise around every corner in the way of a barking dog. As we worked our way around a series of homes I head the sound of someone chopping firewood. Two Hopi Indians had a large pile of wood that needed to be split. I got out and asked them if anyone was selling any Native American wares. The one fella went into his house and came out with a bag full of rattles. The brilliant colors on the large gourd rattle matched their colorful handles. The beads inside the rattles made a nice sound and a few of us bought their wares and did a small dance around the mesa to celebrate.

We had a bit of a drive to Canyon de Chelly on the Navajo reservation. The weather was holding perfect with clear skies as we drove onto the reservation. We checked into a motel and still had time to check out the visitor center on the rim of the canyon. The whole area is owned by th Navajo nation and you can’t drive down into the canyon without a Navajo guide. I drove down last year with a guide in my 4 wheel drive truck and I didn’t think I would every get out of the boggy mess so we would skip that part this time.

The next morning I drove our group along the rim and stopped at different spots to explore and take pictures. The canyon below the rim held beautiful sights with a occasional Navajo farm laid out below. Numerous signs explained that no one could enter the canyon without a Navajo guide. Biagio wanted to know what it would hurt if he entered without a guide. With tongue in cheek I told him an arrow in his back might hurt a tad.

After a few hours of exploring we all drove towards Moab Utah and Canyon Land National Park. I saw a road sign pointing to Valley of the Gods, which sounded interesting because I wondered where the Gods hung out. The road was covered with loose gravel but it was in nice shape without many ruts. The high walls of red rocks crowned the road as we worked our way down the valley. The Italians couldn’t believe their eyes to come across such a perfect example of Utah at it’s best. I drove for about fifteen minutes and then parked the car so all could get out and stretch the legs and bend the neck looking at all the magnificent sights.

By dinner time we had pulled into Moab and got settled into our motel. This was a good place to do some laundry and use the internet for email. We had enough food in the coolers for a dinner in our room and we had a nice bedside dinner.

The next morning I drove the group up along the Colorado River towards Cisco. A cold weather pattern had pushed it’s way onto some warm weather so fog was along the river. Looking through the lens of our camera’s made the surrounding canyon walls look even better. I followed the road up into Arches National Park. A thin layer of fresh snow covered all the large monoliths and arches. We decided to walk to Delicate Arch and have a look see. After passing a small pioneer cabin the trail got steeper and muddy. After a few hours of walking we came around a curve and there was Utah’s famous Delicate Arch. After a few pictures where taken it was a race to get back to the car and have lunch.

Dave Guzy decided that he had seen enough and was going to drive back to Denver from here. We loaded his truck with all the camping gear from the Grand Canyon. With limited space we had to tie some of our gear on top of our car. We had the look of the Beverly Hill Hillbillies as we headed towards Colorado.

As we drove higher into the mountains the snow got deeper along side the car. The town of Ouray would be our final resting stop for tonight. This is a old mining town that is known now for it’s ice climbing on a frozen waterfall. As we walked to dinner a lite snow fell on our shoulders. Red Mountain Pass a little farther south was closed but that wouldn’t effect our travels until the day after tomorrow. We found a small little restaurant and had a fine meal. With cold crisp night air on our cheeks, it was fun walking along the old store fronts and have a peak at the goodies inside.

The next morning Mel, Giorgio, Biagio and myself got on our skiing cloths for our downhill adventure at Telluride. The town is also a old mining town with heaps of history. Butch Cassidy robbed his first back here. The rest of the gang could wander around as we skied our legs off. It was a real job getting all the Italians outfitted in their ski equipment. It was a bit pricey, but how many times would they get to ski Telluride. Maybe old Butch Cassidy robbed the bank in order to ski here we all thought! We all made plans with the non skiers to meet at a local place for lunch and then off we went. We had a great day of skiing, with blue clear skies. Everyone had a different style and speed but mostly we just wanted to get down the slope in one piece.

This morning we woke to a few inches of new snow but not enough to worry about. I took everybody to the frozen waterfalls that ice climbers come to from all over the world. Then I started the drive up over Red Mountain Pass. The views on top are breath taking. We stopped at the old mining town of Silverton and looked at a few of the old buildings.

The town of Durango would be our lunch spot today. An old hotel with a ancient saloon would make perfect lunch spot. As we all sat around a large around table, a bar girl wearing a outfit from the 1800's with a low cut blouse came and sat on Biagio’s lap. He had the look as if he had died and gone to heaven. After all the lap sitting for the male’s in our party we all went on a tour of the upper floors of the old hotel. I skipped the lap part since I am married! Ha ha When it was time to leave I had to almost yell fire to get everybody out the door. I made reservations for dinner tomorrow night with more cute bar girls as a money raiser for the historical society.

We had spent so much time on the entertainment at the hotel it ate into our sightseeing time at Mesa Verde National Park. The drive can be quite long to get to the first exhibit of the Anasazi Indians that lived in the area thousands of years ago. By 4:00 pm we finally made it to the visitor center and a ancient site that we could visit. The walk down to the site was steep but well worth the time with a under ground kiva that could be visited. After our tour we all walked through the visitor center and got idea of how big the area was and how many people had lived here.

Now we had a long drive to Pagosa Springs where we would stay and unwind a bit. We drove to our motel in the dark and many elk where beside the road and it was a blessing to get home with out a elk becoming a hood ornament. After surviving our driving trip home we decide to cancel the dinner at the hotel with the cutie bar girls tomorrow.

In Pagosa Springs only four of us made dinner while two decided to hang in the motel rooms and watch some television. I found a small Italian restaurant that didn’t know what to make of our group. The menu didn’t make any sense to the Italians either. Items on the menu meant something completely different then what it meant in the old country. Biagio made the announcement that there wasn’t a real Italian within a mile of this town.

The next day I had plans on skiing Wolf Creek Pass but the Italian’s heart wasn’t in riding the boards down the hill. I took them to the ski slope but we just walked around and found out prices. It was just as well because a few members of my fine group got lite headed at the high elevation.

The town of Pagosa Springs has a first rate hot springs and we would spend the afternoon soaking our aching bones in the hot water.

The next morning I knew my group needed a little more rest, so I suggested we skip Crested Butt ski area and go directly to Westcliffe where I have access to a cabin. This put a smile on everybody’s face. Along the way we stopped at Alamosa and used their library for some over do email. At Fort Garland we went on a tour of the old fort where Kit Carson lived for a few years. Right next door was a older restaurant that had a wonderful lunch menu and after sampling a few dishes we ordered.

I knew a short cut to the Wet Mountain Valley but it involved driving on a back road. In this case the road was snow packed and there just enough room for our big machine to plow through. Snow was spraying off the fenders as we worked our way over the pass. The sight of a paved road was a welcome sight. By 3:00 pm I drove up the mountain road that lead to the cabin. The views from the cabin is breath taking to say the least. Everybody was so glad to be settled in one place for a few days. While I turned on the water and the hot water heater my friends made out a food shopping list. It only had one problem, it was written in Italian. The one item that was very important that was on their list was a good size bone with a bit of meat attached. The women wanted to cook this bone with onions all day to make lovey broth. Then this broth would be poured over a bed of rice with seasoning. The grocery store in this small town isn’t the largest by any stretch of the imagination. The butcher did everything in his power to find a bone that would meet the standards of my friends. At the end I think he sprayed red paint on a old soup bone out of the dog dish and called it good. As the women cooked dinner, Biagio, Mel and I walked outdoors to observe the night skies with all the stars shining bright. Mel pointed a to a bright star that can be seen in Italy. Mel explained since he was older and had lived through the Second World War, that star meant something special to him. When his parents where sure that Milan was going to be bombed by the Allied they sent the youngster Mel to live with his grandfather on the farm in the country to be safe. Mel was very young and didn’t want to leave his parents side, they told him to look at this star every evening at 9:00 pm and they would do the same in Milan and that way they would be in each others heart.

The next morning I took part of the gang to a mountain located behind the cabin for a bit of the stretch of the legs. While we climbed, the women folk got busy cooking the lunch with this bone. As we gained in elevation on our little mountain we had a great vantage point to see the Sangre de Cristos across the valley. I found a different route to come down off the mountain and we came to a fresh mountain lion kill site of a deer. Our group was fascinated with the results of the power of the mountain lion.

The next morning we all got ready for a trip to Monarch ski area. Georgio, Mel, Biagio and I where the only ones that where going to ski. The prices where a lot better then Telluride. Half the group because of age got to ski for free and the skis and boots rental where cheap. We all had a grand day skiing and then all got together for a lunch break. The snow and weather couldn’t have been any better.


I stopped at the Salida Hot Springs, where again just part of us got into the soothing hot spring water. We had a ball just floating around in the pools and just watched the other bathers do same. A local Italian restaurant with a cold beer finished off a perfect day. By the time we got back in the vehicle the skies had opened up and it started to snow. I drove through a snow storm all the way home without a peep from my passengers. There was a big cheer though when I pulled into the garage, since we had made it home without any problemos!

The next morning we would drive south to Santa Fe, New Mexico. Along I-25 I pulled into the Fort Union National Monument so every one could have a look at a old time fort. The museum with all it’s information about the Santa Fe Trail was just what the doctor ordered. After the tour we broke out the food for one of our grand picnic’s and I asked two girls that we meet from Colorado to join us. They had both been to Italy so there much to talk about with the group.

Later on in the day we stopped at Pecos Monument and had another tour with plenty of things to look at and discover. By dinner time we pulled into Santa Fe and found our motel.


The next morning we drove south to Albuquerque and I took them to Old Town. I dropped them off and I drove to the airport to pick up Pam my wife that was going to join us.

When Pam and I got back my friends had bought a large arrangement of flowers and gave them to Pam. Pam had bought each and everyone a different fetish and she handed them out with the meaning of the fetish attached. After lunch we all walked around old town and window shopped.

As we drove back to Santa Fe we all talked about dinner and where we should go, since there is so many choices in town. Pam selected a good place and we had fun eating and talking for few hours.

The next day we toured Santa Fe and looked at all the Native America handy work. At lunch we stopped at a famous Hotel La Fonda and they had a excellent buffet. That night we walked along the old street of the town and looked at the sky and the shine from the street lights.

The next day we drove north towards Taos but we stopped at Los Alamos and had a look at the museum dedicated to the making of the atomic bomb. Then we stopped by Ojo Cliente hot springs for just a look without getting our bodes wet. For lunch we stopped at Chimayo de Rancho for lunch and had the best time with the food and the atmosphere of the old ranch. Then we drove into Taos and checked into our motel for the night.


The next morning we drove to the Pueblo de Taos where the Tewa Indians have lived for centuries. We hired a guide that gave us information about the pueblo and then I would try and explain what she had said to Biagio, which in turn would tell his friends in Italian.

Within a few hours we where all in Denver and it seemed like just minutes since I had left four weeks ago, the tour was that much fun. The night before my friends where ready to board their plane back to Milan Italy we had a big dinner. One of our dinner guests told Biagio about when his father fought the Second World War in Italy. So when it time came to give a toast, Biagio said that everybody didn’t agree with Mussolini and he was just crazy.

Our time together was so much fun and entertaining for all parties. But I think everybody was ready to go home after all this time away from home