Susan the Human

Last updated: 12/25/2004; 8:05:37 PM

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Who is The Human?
Susan the Human is agent and manager to Pesky the Rat and Janet the Snake. Desperate for an outlet to express her more human-oriented views, she created a web page. Unfortunately, Janet the Snake ate it. So she created another one. This one is snake-proofed.

Originally from the redwood forests of central and Northern California, Susan the Human now lives with various lethal and non-lethal beasts in the San Francisco Bay Area.

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E-mail the author, Susan McNerney : Click here to send an email to the editor of this weblog.

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Road Trip Diary 2004

Go to Part 10: The End of the Grand Tour
Go to Part 9:
Petrified Forest, AZ; Zuni, NM; El Morro & El Malpais Nat'l Parks, NM. 
Go to Part 8: Navajoland & Canyon de Chelly, AZ
Go to Part 7: Silverton-Durango Railroad, CO
Go to Part 6: Mesa Verde, CO
Go to Part 5: San Juan Skyway, CO
Go to Part 4: Pagosa Springs, CO

Go to Part 3: Taos, NM
Go to Part 2: Santa Fe and Las Vegas, NM
Go to Part 1: Albuquerque and Carlsbad, NM

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Why should I vote for...2004

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Wednesday, May 12, 2004
Southwest Travel Journal Part 4: Pagosa Springs, CO

 

Go to Part 3: Taos, NM
Go to Part 2: Santa Fe and Las Vegas, NM
Go to Part 1: Albuquerque and Carlsbad, NM


 

Travel Notes:  As time wound down in Taos, and the noisy biker men beamed back up to the mothership, we looked forward to our next stop: Pagosa Springs, Colorado, home of a world-class set of hot springs tubs right on the San Juan River. We said goodbye to the Prairie Dogs (a good-sized colony lives next to the Arby’s restaurant in Taos) and headed up Highway 64 toward Colorado.  Our first stop was the spectacular Rio Grande Gorge Bridge:

 

While we stood on the bridge taking pictures, some teeny-tiny rafters floated down below us. The day before, we had rafted the lower section of this part of the Rio Grande. The people floating under this bridge were rafting a more challenging section: 

We watched them float into some rapids under the bridge and soak themselves. Then they got teenier and tinier until they all disappeared into the distant gorge.  

 

We walked back to the rest area from the bridge.  They had a lovely restroom there. They had a sign in front of the restroom saying, “I approve of this restroom” with “Yes” and “No” buttons. Having engaged in a satisfying experience therein, I pressed the “Yes” button.

 

Off we drove through the mountains, to Highway 84, past the spectacular Brazos cliffs and the New Mexico alpine high country. I had no idea New Mexico had such lush, green alpine landscapes. We passed through Chama, a jumping-off point for all sorts of adventures, and then entered Colorado.

Almost instantaneously two things changed. First, there were more houses per mile than we’d seen in rural New Mexico. Second, every last house was nicely kept, spotlessly clean, and more often than not, surrounded by expensive horses in a field of wildflowers. Where New Mexico had been borderline poor, Colorado seemed distinctly rich.

 

We were both very sore from horseback riding, rafting, and variously falling down on the sidewalk, and we were ready for those hot springs. But we weren’t sure exactly what we’d find in Pagosa Springs. The United States is dotted with hot springs from east to west, and many of them were developed in the 19th and early 20th century for tourists. But over time, due to the Depression or other economic circumstances,  many fell into disrepair and some even disappeared back into the wilderness. Still others were poorly developed by local entrepeneurs who just piped the naturally hot water into a big, ugly, square swimming pool and called it a resort.

 

Pagosa Springs is different. The hot pools here are mostly naturalistic, and the water is so rich in minerals that many of them have active geological formations pouring over their sides. The centerpiece of the resort, which is set directly on the edge of the river, is a massive mineral formation that looks almost ready to swallow up the 17 hot tubs and anybody who happens to be inside:

 

The pools vary in temperature (which is posted on a sign above each pool) from 95 to 113 degrees. They have names, such as “Tranquility” for the coolest one or “Lobster Pot” for the one that is always empty due to its temperature. Guests wander from pool to pool, some with overlook views, others right by the side of the river. We watched four kayakers and a raft go through class 2+ rapids in the swollen San Juan River ten feet from our pool.

The town of Pagosa is charming and small. I recommend staying at the Pagosa Springs Resort, in the cheapest rooms, which are closest to the pools (free entry to the pools for guests), and eating at “J.J.’s”, a restaurant east of town with a nice view of the San Juan river.

 

Having thoroughly bathed ourselves into human prunes, mother and I packed our bags the next morning while steam rose off the baths:

 

…and headed west, to the most photogenic road I’ve ever seen. Check back tomorrow for the next leg of our journey.

10:05:41 PM  


 

 

 

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