Jack the dog loves Colorado.

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Jack loves Colorado

One paw in four states?

He could live there. Riding through the Rockies, seeing snow-capped peaks and smelling pine turns the hot Arizona desert into a memory. He tries to place a paw in four states at the same time, alas, some genius fiscal manager from the Federal government closes the National Monument of Four Corners for construction…druing the beginning of tourist season…I guess they do not need the money?

The town of Durango offers everything that we need. Friendly folks, bicycle and walking trails along a raging river, and a plethora of breweries. You ask, “What is a plethora?” He answers, “A plethora is many.”

Mare and I cop a $50 pet-friendly motel room next to a stream.

A dog and his man

Jack drinks water from the brook while breaching atop two stumps.  He sniffs new scents, cautiously.

Durango river walk

What a great stop. After a day’s drive, we relax instantly. This is our kind of town… hiking, water sports, skiing, all the outdoor stuff…but right now, kicking-back becomes the name of the game and the Steamworks brewery seems to be the place to do it. We observe a balanced blend of historical/modern, cowboy/yuppie, you name it, wherever you fit in, there will be comfort on these streets.



In the morning we stroll down a cement walkway along the river. A steam-powered train engine pulls tourists up to the town of Silverton. Bicyclists peddle to work, and joggers pass by. We find a diner, a throwback to the type of diners back east, where people sit on stools.

A man wearing a cowboy hat and bib overalls approaches us. “Where you from?”

“Arizona,” I reply. “Sure is nice and cool up here.”

“Well, you came to the right place for breakfast. They use real potatoes here, not like those frozen cubes called hashbrowns.”

After a friendly conversation, he walks out the door where poor Jack sits outside tied to a pole. He pets Jack and then disappears.

No dogs allowed

It’s time to hit the road, Jack. We marvel at the Rockies. How did they build these roads? Impossible. The switchbacks zigzag over passes as high as 11,000 feet. We stop to step in the snow, and see the road twisting its way down through the pines and into a valley.

Silverton in the valley

Tonight, we hope to make the town of Golden, where we can hang out with Mike and Carole, not just relatives, but good friends. We know that we’re in for a good time.