Wildflower-lovers are never disappointed in June and July when the meadows and hillsides are splashed with botanical color. Autumn visitors can relax among the golden aspens or enjoy the rowdier antics of the elk rut during mating season. And those brave enough to venture into the cold during the winter are treated to snowscapes unlike any other, as the park is open year-round.
“We were on par for a good year but after the closure, we pretty much stopped. We didn’t hit our targets,” said Zach Zehr, manager at the Estes Park Mountain Shop who’s now pushing backcountry ski adventures. “People either cut their trips short or they were pure cancellations because they heard it was closed. Or they didn’t recreate as they thought they would. They shifted gears and did something else. They didn’t buy hats and gloves because they weren’t going to use them.”
19th-century ghost town, and hosts its own fabulous mineral hot springs. The five-star property enjoys a backdrop of aspens and the dramatic San Juan Mountain Range, situated about 30 miles southwest of Telluride. It’s the perfect place to disconnect from the chaos of the modern world and connect with the one you love. Nearby you can go heli-skiing, rock climbing or hike miles and miles of scenic trails. It hosts a ring of historic log cabins that now serve as luxurious retreats as well as other historic buildings that house a lavish spa, a well-stocked library and a saloon with wagon-wheel chandeliers.
Cripple Creek / Victor – If you’re a history buff, a wild west fanatic, or a fan of quintessential Colorado scenery, you’ll love the towns of Cripple Creek and Victor. Both towns offer a number of easy and fun hikes (we love the Vindicator Valley Trail) that showcase the area’s rich mining history. Visit the Mollie Kathleen Gold Mine for a unique trip through 1,000 feet of rock and into a real mine. There are also a number of enchanting local hotels that warrant a night’s stay (or two!) on your authentic Colorado vacation.
The sun made us lazy, and after following Brian as he made his way upstream I found a wider expanse of sand and gravel, promptly plopping down on a pair of flip flops I had brought in my backpack as a make-shift seat. After identifying the northern harrier hawk over my head, and the savannas sparrows and red-winged blackbirds perched precariously on reeds across the water, I took out my knitting project. I didn’t have to worry about losing Brian; in the valley I could see for miles in both directions.
