I drove south toward Colorado Springs, where I spent the late afternoon driving through and then walking around Garden of the Gods, which is a beautiful, dramatic place of red rock spires. There were plenty of families on afternoon walks and groups practicing their rock-climbing skills. Unfortunately, the clouds moved in and the sky turned dark about an hour before sunset, so my photographic opportunities were limited, but I enjoyed the scenery nonetheless. I found a campsite at Pikes Peak RV Park and then wandered around the town of Manitou Springs in the evening, checking out some little shops and galleries. I sampled a little of the spring water at one of the many springs in the town, but I don’t think I’d want to drink any more than a sip, even if it has magical healing powers. Not the pleasantest water I’ve ever tasted. I walked around looking for a place to eat dinner and a few places looked nice, but I was feeling kind of restless and I guess a little homesick, so I wasn’t in much of a mood for dinner. However, the idea of ice cream and coffee appealed to me, so I decided to just skip the whole idea of dinner and have desert instead.

I had way more reason than a sunny morning and a herd of elk to be happy that morning — I was going to meet my husband, Jamie, in Denver! I was missing him so much and was so excited to see him that I didn’t care about finding things to photograph on the way to Denver — I just wanted to get there. We met at the hotel and caught up over a few drinks in the bar before going out for a nice dinner. It was so wonderful to see him!

The next morning, we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast at Snooze, and then decided to drive out to Red Rocks, where we walked around, checked out the amphitheater, and ate lunch in the cafe. We then decided to drive into the mountains to Loveland Pass so Jamie could get a taste of the mountain scenery I’d been enjoying. It was a fantastic, totally relaxed day with absolutely no agenda. I left the camera in my bag and just enjoyed the ride. Exactly what we both needed!

During one break in the rain, I took a drive into Rocky Mountain NP and got a few photographs of a beautiful stand of aspens in their fall glory before the rain started again. To finish off my leisurely day, I had a great dinner of lamb korma at Nepal’s Cafe.

As the road descended into the eastern part of the park, the weather cleared a bit, and the scenery changed. Stands of aspens still clung to some of their yellow leaves, streams ran through meadows, and I saw lots of elk, some of them so close to the road that traffic was stopped and rangers were managing the crowds. Even though I was happy to see some remnants of fall color at the lower elevations, I bet it had been spectacular a couple of weeks earlier.

As I hiked the little loop around Sprague Lake to catch the last afternoon light, the clouds once again moved in and rain started to pour. The mountains disappeared behind the clouds, and I took that as a sign that it was time to go find dinner and a room for the night. Low temps were once again getting down into the twenties, so I wasn’t even going to bother looking for camping. I found a room at the friendly Silver Moon Inn in Estes Park, and arranged to spend the next two nights there. I was craving some ethnic food, so I walked through town to window shop and have a nice quiet dinner at Sushi Yama.

From there, I continued north on Route 24, past a stretch of mountains named after Ivy League schools and more mining towns, including one very intriguing area that looked like a company town had just picked up and left the neat rows of houses that stretched across a mountainside. Unfortunately, gates blocked the road into the area and stern signs warned of all kinds of environmental hazards, so I got some pictures from a safe distance. I joined the interstate on I-70 near Vail, as it’s basically the only major road through the mountains in that area. It’s a pretty stretch of interstate, surrounded by mountains, but one heck of a climb for a little hybrid car pulling a trailer! After passing through the impressive Eisenhower-Johnson Tunnel, I took Route 40 north, hoping to get to the town of Granby before nightfall. Sure enough, I found my way to the Trail Riders Motel (another cool old-school motel, complete with a swell neon sign) since I was still in high elevation/low temperature territory. At this point, I was kind of missing sleeping in the camper, but I’m not crazy about waking up when it’s 24 degrees outside. I was also finding that many of the campgrounds with showers were closed for the season, and if it’s going to get that cold at night, I want a nice hot shower in the morning!

After checking in at the Trail Riders and catching a nice sunset and alpenglow over the distant mountains, I had a very good salad at a restaurant called Maverick’s, and I’d ordered a half-size appetizer of chips and guacamole, which still easily could have served 2-3 people. Fortunately, their claim to have “award-winning guacamole” seems to be well-founded, because I liked it so much, I took the leftovers with me for lunch the next day.

After leaving Black Canyon, I drove on to Salida, CO, where I stopped for the night. The nights were getting cold (below 30 degrees), so I decided to go for a hotel room again, and wound up in the Days Inn. I headed to the popular Amici’s for dinner, where I had a very good (and large) vegetarian lasagna that also provided me with lunch the following day.

I left Farmington and drove north on Route 550 into Colorado. It was not easy to leave New Mexico, because I would dearly love to revisit Santa Fe, Taos, and the surrounding areas. But I was also eager to return to Colorado, because I’ve only been there very briefly, through the Great Sand Dunes and Mesa Verde. I was eager to see the Colorado mountains in their fall glory.

I was not disappointed. The highway took me through Durango and then north into the mountains, which were adorned with swaths of trees sporting hues of yellow, gold, and orange, punctuated by the contrast of white aspen trunks and dark evergreens. I passed horse farms and clear lakes, and there were a couple of places where I could capture the beautiful green of the Animas River. The skies were brilliant blue, and it was comfortably cool. It was just spectacular.

Eventually, the climbing road became steeper and turned into a series of switchbacks. Snow-covered peaks loomed from behind the nearer mountains, and patches of brilliant red rock began to appear in the mountainsides. The Million Dollar Highway is a stunning drive, especially in the fall. I took hours along the highway, stopping and taking lots of pictures of the mountains, the foliage, and the abandoned mining operations. I passed through the town of Silverton without making any real stops, but it looks like it would be fun to explore further. The day was passing quickly, and I knew I still had some miles ahead of me. The sun was setting a little earlier each day, and in the mountains the sky darkens even sooner.

With sundown nearly upon me, I arrived in the charming old mining town of Ouray and found a room at the Hot Springs Inn, which was a very friendly and comfortable place to stay (another good recommendation thanks to TripAdvisor.com!). Upon the recommendation of Rufus, who I had chatted with in Farmington, I had dinner at O’Brien’s Pub – the fish & chips were good! I then wandered around town a little and ended up buying myself a cute hat at High Country Leathers, a couple of books at the very welcoming Buckskin Booksellers, and treating myself to a “scrap cookie” at Mouse’s Chocolates. What is a scrap cookie, you ask? Well, for one, it’s delicious. Oh, and huge. But if you need to know more, they are cookies they bake from the leftovers of whatever kind of chocolate candies they’ve made that particular day. I really could not tell you what all was in my particular cookie, but whatever it was, it was better than good. I had intentions of only eating half that night and saving the rest for the next day, but I couldn’t resist. I polished it off, along with a cup of coffee from the Hot Springs Inn. A delicious end to a fantastic day!

Well, I’m adventurous and pretty well-prepared, but I’m not too keen on the idea of wandering into a wilderness area I’ve never seen before, with no designated hiking trails, to possibly wander until I was lost and die of thirst in the desert. So I waited until the sun was up to drive to the Bisti area. I would miss the early morning light so favorable for photography, but considering I was traveling alone in a wilderness area completely new to me, I was willing to make a compromise in favor of my safety.

I had read a lot about Bisti, including caveats about how remote and little-visited it is. So imagine my surprise after driving 45 minutes down a little-traveled highway, another 10 minutes along unpaved gravel roads, and turning to see about 20 vehicles parked at the entrance to the area. I laughed at myself for being a little nervous about the supposed remoteness of this place, but soon enough I realized that the crowd was not a typical occurrence there — it was actually a tour group. Apparently, on that particular week, a couple of paleontologists had set up a series of tours for people wanting to visit the area. I decided to take advantage of the situation by following them at a distance, just so I’d have an idea of where to go.

The Bisti wilderness is first and foremost just that — a wilderness. Like I said, there are no hiking trails. If you’re going there alone for the first time, it’s good to have some information about landmarks to help you find some of the many interesting sights. Granted, you could just wander and stumble upon them by chance, which can be fun too, but it can also be frustrating and exhausting.

So, keeping the tour group just barely in sight, soon enough I found myself in a wonderland of badlands, balanced rocks, hoodoos, and stone toadstools. Thanks to the group, I found the easy-to-miss area of low, cracked and patterned rocks sometimes called the Eggs. You have got to see these things to believe them. A short while later, I entered a section of badlands peppered with remnants of petrified logs — some bits were little more than splinters, but there were also occasional huge trunks, lying horizontally, embedded in the hills or resting on top of the sandstone.

By that point, I’d gotten my bearings pretty well and knew where I was in relation to the car, which was maybe three miles away, so I felt comfortable letting the tour group disappear from view as they turned back toward the parking lot. I continued exploring the badlands and rock formations, finding some that look almost like Henry Moore sculptures, and others made of pale sandstone capped with darker rocks. As I neared one rock formation, I saw movement on the ground and realized I had company: a rattlesnake! This was my first real-life encounter with a rattler, but I’m not really afraid of snakes, so he didn’t freak me out. On the contrary, I was fascinated. I took a lot of pictures, but I think at one point my lens got a little too close to him because he rattled and then moved quickly away to hide under a rock.

I wandered a bit more, but I was running out of water and feeling tired and thirsty, so I knew I needed to head for the car before doing anything else. It was a warm day and I was feeling the effects of the heat and sun, and the walk back to my car took longer than I thought it would.

Back at the parking lot, I set to work on rehydrating myself and having a snack. I really should have carried a lunch and more water into the badlands. As I relaxed there, I met a wonderful couple named Bob and Sharon. Bob is a black-and-white nature photographer, and a wonderful one at that. Go Google Bob Kolbrener and check out his work. You’ll be glad you did. I also chatted a little with a young German couple who didn’t seem to know too much about the landscape they were about to walk into, so I gave them some advice on how to find some of the interesting parts I’d seen.

While exploring an area of badlands next to one of the nearby gravel roads, I met a young man named Nelson, who corrected my pronunciation of “Bisti” — I had been thinking it was “bis-tee” but it’s actually “bis-tie” pronounced like you “tie” your shoe. Since Nelson told me his last name is Bisti, I suppose he would know better than anyone. He was on horseback, with his dog following, looking for a missing cow. He told me about how many people he meets out there, and how often they’re lost. One time, he said, he encountered a young couple from Japan with their child in a stroller, lost and unable to find their car. They had been walking for hours. Considering the harsh desert terrain, the picture of a lost couple with a baby in a stroller is a pretty alarming idea!

As the light faded, I made my way back to Farmington and went to the Three Rivers Brewery for a delicious microbrew and a hearty dinner.

One of the odd and sometimes sad things about photographing discarded vehicles is the random object that is sometimes left behind when the car is abandoned. This is understandable — a lot of these cars look like they’ve been in accidents, and personal property is often forgotten and left in the car after such traumatic experiences. I’ve seen stuffed animals and toys, tools, clothing, coffee mugs, luggage… all kinds of stuff. At this particular salvage yard, sitting on top of a Karmann Ghia was an old woven suitcase and a canteen, both of definite vintage origins. I took some pictures and left them in their place.

I got back to my campsite and should have been ready to check out, but I realized I was perilously low on my supply of clean clothes, so I took the opportunity to do laundry and catch up on an episode of Mad Men. I’ve barely missed TV on this trip, but two shows were on my must-view list: Project Runway and Mad Men. Thank goodness for iTunes and campgrounds with wi-fi!

Armed with fresh clean laundry and burning questions about Don Draper’s future, I headed out on the road towards Farmington, New Mexico, by driving south on Utah 191 and then southeast into Colorado on Route 491. In the town of Dove Creek, I found another treasure trove of old rusty cars — some of the usuals, like a Galaxie 500 and Ford Fairlane, but also a couple of DeSotos, which I rarely see.

Apparently, this part of Colorado is bean farming country — I’d never given much thought to where in the USA our legumes originate, so this was a small moment of enlightenment. I passed a number of small towns with signs for bean companies, one of which declared simply, “OPEN. BEANS.”

Near Cortez, CO, my jaw dropped at the sight of a huge field of junked cars, with the LaSal Mountains as a picturesque backdrop. I could have spent the whole rest of the day there if there hadn’t been a big sign warning me to “KEEP OUT.” I have a problem, don’t I? I promise, I really did not stop at every junkyard I saw.

I continued on the highway passing Hovenweep, a notable area of ancient Native American ruins. I had been tempted to try to fit a visit into this trip, but I knew it is an destination that warrants more than a cursory visit. Next trip! I was also near Mesa Verde National Park, another scenic area with a fascinating array of cliff dwellings. I visited Mesa Verde briefly on my first trip to the Southwest over 15 years ago, so I didn’t put it on the agenda for this trip, although I would definitely like to go there again.

I continued south into New Mexico, passing through the town of Shiprock, with its towering namesake formation in the near distance, and headed east on Route 64 into Farmington, where I planned to stay for the next couple of nights. I had chosen Farmington because it’s the nearest town to the remote and otherworldly area called the Bisti Badlands, which would be my destination for the following day.

I decided to take a break from the camper and instead checked in at the Region Inn, which was an inexpensive but pleasant place to stay. While I was unloading my car, one of the other guests came up to ask about my trailer, and as usual, we ended up chatting for a while. His name was Rufus, and he travels to the area frequently to conduct fire and rescue training sessions. He very kindly gave me some great advice on scenic routes in Colorado that would come in handy later in my trip. After talking for a while, I got settled in to the hotel and had dinner at their on-site Mexican restaurant, called Tequila’s. It was a pleasant surprise — the food was quite good, and I had enough for leftovers!

At Canyonlands, I drove to all the viewpoints and took almost all of the short hikes to overlooks with sweeping views of the rugged desert landscape carved by the Green and Colorado Rivers. I particularly enjoyed the hike around a portion of the Upheaval Dome, the eroded remnants of what is likely an impact crater where a meteorite hit the earth 60 million years ago. I looked with a little bit of envy at the 4WD White Rim Road that led down into the canyons, and thought that next time I return to this part of the world, my husband Jamie is coming with me, and we’re taking a 4WD vehicle!

I caught some late afternoon light at Mesa Arch, ducking out of the way of about a dozen other photographers, and caught the sunset back at the overlook at Dead Horse Point State Park, where the atmosphere was almost like a party. People finishing their hikes and snacking, lounging around watching the sunset, even a guy playing Beatles songs on the guitar while his friends sang along. I caught some sunset photos with glowing gold threads rimming the darkening clouds and headed back towards Moab with my stomach growling. Time for dinner!

Back in town, I decided to check out Moab Brewery. Something about a day of hiking and trail mix makes the idea of a burger and a beer especially appealing. The restaurant was packed with people, but I found a table in the bar area. As I ate my meal, a couple named Gretchen and Peter came up and asked if they might join me at my table since it was so busy and there would be a long wait. I had three extra seats, so I was happy to welcome them. They were visiting from Steamboat Springs — they have a house in Moab where they like to go to warm up when the weather in the mountains of Colorado gets too cold. We had a great time talking, and it was nice to share a dinner table with other people again — especially such nice people! Naturally, we got to talking about what I was doing on my trip, they checked out some of my photos on my business cards, and when they learned I like to shoot rusty old cars, they advised me to check out Spanish Valley Road before I left town.

Happy to have had a great dinner and made some new friends, I headed back to my camper for the night.