Black Canyon

As I inched closer to Ouray, my most anticipated stop in all of Colorado, I mentally prepared myself to sacrifice Back Canyon of the Gunnison National Park for the sake of expediency. I had read about it being the deepest, narrowest canyon in America (not the narrowest and not the deepest but the most extreme combination of those two features). Sheer walls. 2,000 foot drops. A great, dark gash in the world's side, inflicted by the needle of a river and time. Eons and eons and eons. When the turn-off materialized out of the road, I took a deep breath and touched the break.

Wherever that little voice inside of me that insisted I get off the highway and go see this natural monument while I had the chance came from, I'm glad I listened to it. The Black Canyon is every bit as stunning as its descriptions suggests. Sheer walls. 2,000 foot drops. An abyss that electrifies every sense because of how close you are to certain death.

It's only five miles off the highway. The South Rim, that is. There's also a North Rim on the other side but that's closed during winter. There were two Black Canyon lookout points open to cars on Saturday. At the second, where the road was closed, there's also a visitor center. It was here that I met a helpful park ranger named Jude.

When I stopped to make small talk, Jude got out a map and gave me a local's perspective on where to go and where to avoid in Southwestern Colorado and bordering New Mexico. I told him of my aspirations to go to Ouray and journey onward through the Million Dollar Highway to Silverton and Durango. He picked up a small fleck of rock and put it on the edge of the counter he was standing behind. "This is the scale," he said. "You're this piece of rock and the counter is the height of the road. Two lanes. No guardrails. I wouldn't recommend it if the weather is in any way bad."

That was all I needed to hear. Million Dollar Highway was out. Especially as the clouds threatened and the predictions of snow (some amount, it was totally unclear how much) drew closer to the present. Jude went on to give me an overview of many of the other roads in the area and also suggested visiting Santa Fe. He said it was his favorite place ever because of the architecture and the culture. I'm going to try to stop.

One final danger Jude warned me about was the large Colorado mule deer population. The problem of deer running onto roadways becomes particularly acute around dusk. Indeed, as I was winding my way out of the park back to the highway, three deer ran across the road. Thanks to Jude's note of warning I was looking for them. I snapped a couple of photos while I waited for the deer to cross.