Frisco

We drove north from Breckenridge to Frisco, mostly to see the Dillon Reservoir and get our water fix after being in the desert for the past four months. But the water was very low, and much of it was still frozen.

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Frisco has created a museum by collecting old buildings from town and placing them in a park at the end of main street. It was very well done, and free! All the buildings were open, and we took our time and saw what there was to see.

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The schoolhouse (on the left, above) had a display of what Frisco looked like when everything was tiny.

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I thought it was interesting how they took a log cabin and fancied up the front.

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This building had a display on local bars and bordellos, but I’m not sure it worked quite like this.

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The inside of the old jail had a cell and a display on mining.

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Our favorite building was a cabin built locally in the 1930’s as a summer cottage. Much of the stuff inside was original. It looked like a very cozy space to spend a week by a mountain stream.

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One of the cabins had a dress-up area in the attic.

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The day was beautiful, although actually hot. We wandered the streets and stopped in a few stores.

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Alma

On Good Friday, we headed into the mountains to explore. We drove through Ute Pass into South Park, where we saw thousands of Pronghorn, all on the left side of the road.

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I think the mountain on the right is Lincoln Peak, one of the 14ers.

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Alma is the highest incorporated town in North America, at 10,578 feet, which puts it at two miles above sea level.

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It’s a funky little town that’s very proud of being “high.” We stopped at the Al-Mart, a general store that sold food and clothing and all sorts of things. The guy running the register told me, “If we don’t have it, you don’t need it.” We soon discovered they didn’t have toilet paper in the restroom, so I’m not sure I agree with him.

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North of Alma, we drove over Hoosier Pass on the Continental Divide. The road never got above treeline, bit it came pretty close.

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I think this might be Quandary Peak, another 14er.

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Buckhorn Exchange

We ate lunch in downtown Denver, at the Buckhorn Exchange, the oldest restaurant in the city. It was opened in 1893 by Henry “Shorty Scout” Zietz, one of Buffalo Bill’s band of scouts. 

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The walls are covered with mounted animals heads and birds and photos of celebrities who have eaten there. These include five presidents, Princess Anne, two astronauts, actors, and Buffalo Bill himself. And now us.

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The upstairs features a bar built in 1857 and a lounge.

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Our table was an old poker table brought over from Germany over 160 years ago. We both ordered steaks and baked potatoes.

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They were delicious, as was the Dutch apple pie with ice cream and cinnamon rum sauce that we split (although a little less sauce would have been OK).

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To sum up, it was an awesome place with awesome food. If we find ourselves in Denver around lunch again, we’ll be back.

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United States Mint — Denver, Colorado

We drove to Denver to tour the U.S. Mint. The tickets are first-come-first-serve. We arrived at 9:30 and got tickets for the 11:00 tour. But since it took a half hour to get everyone through the metal detectors, we only had an hour to wait. We hung out in the gift shop without buying anything, then walked around to look at the front of the building.

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And we wondered what to do about our car. I’d parked in a lot a block away. I knew the tour was only 45 minutes long, so I paid for two hours of parking. But when we discovered which tour we’d be on, we realized we’d get back to the car 20 minutes late. We decided to risk it. (Our car was there when we returned, with no tickets or anything, so I guess we got a free 20 minutes.)

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We were the fourth and fifth people through the metal detectors. We entered a room with several random displays where we were asked to wait until our tour began. There were displays on jewelry made from money, on different types of purses, on piggy banks. There was a little on the history of money, but it was all rather odd.

We weren’t allowed to take photos, which is a bit weird since you can go online and see photos of much more than we were shown.

A guy with a polished routine led our tour. He led us into a room with displays and artifacts from the mint. He explained the process and showed us some die and coils of metal and leftover bits. One wall was glass and looked out over one of the production rooms. There were several blue machines that, we were told, were used to mint coins. None of them was operating, and there were no people around. Right up next to the window there was a conveyor belt of trays that contained pennies, but I’m pretty sure they just run that for the tour groups so everyone can say they saw pennies being made.

The guide explained that the mint loses money making pennies and nickels but makes money on other coins and commemoratives — enough so that they make a profit of $35 million, or something like that.

We were then ushered into another room that was basically a commercial for the mint. The displays — and the talk — was about all the things that were available in the print shop. This room had two glass walls that gave us a view down into another room of blue machines that weren’t operating. We saw two employees, but they were just talking to each other. It was all a little dull.

In a corner there was a display about a mint employee from the 1920’s. He had a wooden leg, and over the course of several years, he sneaked out a couple hundred gold bars in his … coat pocket.

The tour ended in the original mint building. The architecture was impressive and ornate. We saw an armored sentry box where a guard used to sit with guns and tear gas. But there’s never been an attempted robbery there, or at any of the other mints.

And that was it. Interesting, but not thrilling. I’m glad it was free.

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Bird #476 — Mountain Plover

charadrius (a plover and the watery places inhabited by them) montanus (of mountains)

Sunday, April 9, 2017

Squirrel Creek Road —  El Paso County, Colorado

Not a lot of people have seen a Mountain Plover because they live where very few people go — the dry short-grass prairie east of the Rocky Mountains.

I made it my target bird this month. Last weekend I drove 55 miles east to the tiny town of Matheson, then 10 miles south on a dirt road to a particular field where Mountain Plovers had been seen this spring. I saw none.

This week I tried another location 16 miles east of Fountain where the birds had been seen as recently as Friday. I spotted a couple herds of Pronghorn along the way.

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I found myself in ranch land. To the north was a dry pasture with a herd of perhaps 30 beef cattle. To the south was a scrubby field that stretched to the horizon. A ranch was about a mile east, but beyond that nothing. To the west, across 20 miles of plains, I could see the mountains, including Pikes Peak and, way to the southwest, the Spanish Peaks.

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The grass was so short that I was pretty sure I could spot anything the size of a plover. Horned Larks, which are about two inches shorter and half as tall, were all over the place, and I was seeing them frequently.

I crawled along in the car, scanning both sides of the road. I was on my third trip along the stretch where the birds had been seen, and I was beginning to prepare myself for another disappointment. And then there it was. I spotted a Mountain Plover standing on a cow pie in the pasture to the north. It hopped off and moved around the area, stopping and starting as plover do. It picked at the ground, stared into the distance (or so it seemed), ran a couple feet, and so on. It was about 40 yards away.

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Then I spotted a second one much closer. It was about 25 yards away, behaving much the same way.

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I watched the two of them for about 15 minutes. They were gradually moving further away, and when they got too far off for photos, I headed home. I took a time-lapse video of my drive back to civilization. That’s Pikes Peak on the right horizon.

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