Adventure 668: Alpen Rose RV Park, Durango, Colorado

After a challenging run across Southern Utah, we put the horses away wet today. We're snug as bugs in a shaded spot, and we feel good about being here. Susie, our GPS took us across Utah on a "shortcut" which found us climbing out of a long steep canyon about ten miles  South of Provo, Utah. The ride down, a twisty, breaking affair brought us to our surprise of the day. Maybe if I did a little more map research I wouldn't be as surprised as often. Nonetheless, the road led us right through Helper, Utah, a historic coal mining town that once held the distinction of being the midway point on the rail system between Grand Junction and Provo.  From the late 1800s until nearly 1950 the town bustled with coal mining, and as late as 1948, a few more than two thousand souls lived there. The cool part is that I've always wanted to see Helper because my grandfather lived and worked there as late as 1948, which means my mother would have been about twelve years old. Wikipedia says the mining was slowing down around then, or maybe it was the black lung my grandfather was developing  as a career miner. At any rate, not  long after that, he moved his wife and ten kids to Lewiston via Libby, Montana. It's there he changed careers and became a logger. We walked around Helper, in which someone is investing quite a bit of money. It looks like the town is capitalizing on its history and is trying to become an artsy attraction. It could work, much like Bisbee, Arizona. After Helper, we made the long trek across nowhere down through Moab, past samples of the famous red rocks. We rolled into Durango bout three-thirty only to find the entire downtown corridor in the midst of major construction. The day's drive was not only long, but the route covered many miles of two lanes twists, ups, and downs that we call "whoop-de-doos". Glad we are to be here. Tomorrow's drive will likely involve more twists and turns and certainly some climbing will happen because Chama is two thousand feet higher than Durango. But we'll enjoy the traveling mercies we had today, pray for more tomorrow, and in the meantime we'll relish in the knowledge that life is good, especially today.

Semel prepared.

Semel packaged for the road.

Semel snarfed.

Many of the coal miners who came to Helper were "Bohunks": Slovenians, Croatians, Serbians. Looks like they started young. It's no wonder the unions gained steam.

Literally the whole town is a museum of mining equipment.

Downtown Helper, while eerily quiet, has a bit of panache.

This huge locomotive was used to clear snow from the tracks.

Big John, a larger than life symbol of mining strength, stands proudly in front of the town library.

Art shot of the day.

A good motto for these crazy days.

This eatery is a combination of mining memorabilia and a mock up of an iconic filling station that still stands at the other end of town.

It looks like it takes a "Big John" to handle this chain saw..

Judy snapped a quick shot of this arch as we left Moab.

I can't imagine the grim miners riding this cart down into the damp, dark earth with the intent of  wounding her all the more.

 Frac, living large in Durango.