The Black Canyon of the Gunnison.

On leaving Salida we headed over Marshall Pass, where the weather turned decidedly cold, as demonstrated by this rare photograph of myself.

When I almost slipping over some unexpected mud made Sarah laugh. Personally I have never found simple slap-stick that funny. At least not when I am the one slipping.

I do not recall when I first heard of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, but it was several years ago. However, I had never been there, so when our route west from Salida took us within a mere 6 miles of the south rim campground (On a dead end road) it seemed an obvious decision to pay my respects.

After a days ride with three good-ish climbs in it, we turned off quite late in the day towards the canyon campground. We figured it would involve a climb; we were not wrong, the whole 6 miles were an uphill grind, the scenery barely getting looked at. As it was my call to go there I just hoped it would be worth it.

Our only consolation was that in two days we would be bombing back down the steep hill. However, the campground at the top was just right, the water pure and cold, and the area quiet. We set up camp just before sunset and waited till morning to check out the canyon itself.

Blooming' heck, what a sight. A short walk in the morning light put us right on the edge of a wondrous void, created by 2000' cliffs of sculptured rock. The nature of the forms meant each moment the changing light transformed the shapes in front of us. American swifts swooped around, sometimes only feet away, gorging on the insects brought out by the warmth of the sun. I think I was actually mesmerised for quite some time.

With 2000' plus cliffs, the highest in Colorado, towering over the river below, and constantly changing light forms, it would have been easy to stay for many hours. And I did.

Another gem to my mind.

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