Tag: Colorado

Canon City, Colorado — Copper Roofs

The copper steeples and roof you see in this photo are on the First United Methodist church in Canon City, Colorado.

Why copper? It’s lightweight compared to most other roofing materials, and it resists damage from hail, fire, and natural processes such as mildew. What’s more, it’s durable: If properly maintained, a copper roof can last fifty years or more.

So, why don’t we all have copper roofs? Perhaps most important, the metal itself is costly, and as a result they’re expensive. This is not a minor consideration, since estimates can run as much as fifteen times the cost of a traditional roofing material, such as asphalt shingles. In addition, copper roofs transmit noise, and so need additional material to muffle sound — especially from rain and hail. What’s more, copper expands and contracts with changes in temperature. This can loosen the fasteners securing the roof, requiring regular maintenance.

Whatever the pros and cons, we can tell the copper covering the steeples and roof of this church is relatively new, because of the distinctive orange-brown color. With age, the color of copper gradually changes, and in ten to twenty years the copper protecting this church will develop a blue-green-grey patina — actually oxidation which will shield the surface of the copper.

Arkansas River, Colorado

This is the Arkansas River, which flows out of the Rocky Mountains. Route 50, visible in the photo above, follows the river through the western high plains and along much of the highway’s climb to the Continental Divide.

Kayakers ride the river, rafters float it, and Christo, the artist known for wrapping buildings in fabric and other large fabric-based installations, once wanted to “wrap” it.

He called his project “Over the River” and planned to suspend almost six miles of translucent fabric panels above the Arkansas between Salida, Colorado (upstream from these photos) and Canon City (downstream). There are 42 miles of river between those two cities, and the installation would have covered eight different parts of the river.

Drivers on Route 50 would have looked down at the top of the fabric, while kayakers and rafters would have floated under it. The installation would have taken two and a half years to build and been in place for two weeks.

The project won approvals from federal, state, and local governments, but there was also determined opposition, and legal challenges delayed planning and installation for five years. This despite Christo’s willingness to pay all costs through sales of his art, including, as his website explained at the time, “all direct expenses to create the temporary work of art, as well as costs that result from it (e.g. environmental analysis, traffic control, trash removal and sanitation).”

The installation was originally planned for the summer of 2011, but the conception, planning, and proposal process spanned twenty years, and Jeanne-Claude, Christo’s wife and artistic collaborator, passed away during that time.

Christo turned 80 in 2015, and in early 2017, he announced he was dropping the project. His stated reasons were the legal delays, the total length of time the project consumed, and, because the installation would have been on federal land, his personal distaste for benefiting, as he saw it, the project’s new “landlord,” recently elected president Donald Trump.

Salida, Colorado

Salida, Colorado is just 23 miles from Monarch Pass, where Route 50 crosses the Continental Divide.

The Arkansas River flows through Salida, 60 miles from the river’s headwaters, formed by Rocky Mountain snow melt near Leadville, Colorado. The Arkansas is the sixth-longest river in the U.S., and 1,400 miles downstream the water you see passing through Salida will flow into the Mississippi River.

There’s already plenty of water for kayaking in the river, though, so head on over to the Boathouse Cantina, where you can watch the kayakers while you munch.

Monarch Crest, Colorado

At 11,312 feet, Monarch Crest is the highest point on Route 50. It is on the Continental Divide, which runs north along the Rocky Mountains to the Alaskan shore and the Bering Strait, and south along the Andes Mountains to Chile and the Strait of Magellan.

The view to the east from the Continental Divide on Route 50. Unlikely as it may seem, when that snow melts the resulting water will be headed for the Mississippi River.

The Mississippi River watershed, through which Route 50 has been traveling for over 1,600 miles, ends here. Throughout that vast distance, any drop of water that falls from the sky and succeeds in not getting evaporated, sucked up by a plant, or drunk by an animal will eventually reach the Mississippi River and, ultimately, the Atlantic Ocean.

A few yards to the west (see photo below), rain drops will be bound for the Pacific Ocean.

Route 50 heading west and down from Monarch Crest.

Gunnison, Colorado

Gunnison, Colorado is on the west side of the Continental Divide. In the winter, Gunnison is occasionally the coldest spot in the U.S. In the summer, it’s a lot more pleasant.

And in the middle of each summer, Gunnison hosts an annual ten-day festival called Cattlemen’s Days, including horse shows, rodeos, concerts, livestock shows and auctions. The final Saturday features a parade along Route 50 and through the center of town.

Before the parade starts, there are preparations:

While you’re waiting for the parade, you may want a little personal parade prep — perhaps a latte and a Hatch green chile cheddar scone from the Double Shot Cyclery.

Experienced parade goers know they must possess themselves of patience:

But emergency measures may be required, if patience runs out.

Parade fans await the action:

And — at last! — the parade.

Waving to the fans:

Parading in comfort:

Justifiably proud:

And here comes the band!

Keeping the beat:

Parade exuberance:

How to campaign in Gunnison:

And the (tail) end of any parade involving horses.

Blue Mesa Reservoir, Colorado

Route 50 runs along the shore of Blue Mesa Reservoir, the largest lake in Colorado, for about twenty miles. It crosses the lake at Middle Bridge (above), where the water is perhaps 180 feet deep.

The lake is formed by a dam holding back the water of the Gunnison River. Its surface is at roughly 7,500 feet. Miles downstream, the Gunnison flows through Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park

The black canyon of the Gunnison is deep — 1,800 to 2,700 feet from the rim to the river. And it’s narrow — so narrow that parts of the canyon floor get only 33 minutes of sunlight a day.

This gorge has been formed by the same Gunnison River that fills Blue Mesa Reservoir to the east. The river and its canyon are very old, and that accounts for a curious thing.

As you can see from the photo below, taken looking south, the park is on land that is higher than the surrounding area, 1,600 feet higher, in fact.

The river has cut its gorge through this high plateau, yet the level of the river bed is below that of the surrounding area. This raises an interesting question: Why does the river run through the plateau, instead of going the lower, easier way around?

The answer: The river’s course was already set before a gradual raising of the ground (called the Gunnison Uplift) began, two to three million years ago. Instead of changing course, the river simply carried on, resulting in the canyon (and the National Park) we can visit today. The park entrance is on Route 50, just east of Montrose, Colorado.

You can go all the way down there, if you choose.