Self-Proclaimed "Mountain Snob" Cut Down to Size by Colorado Ranges

DURANGO, CO--

Suz Tolwinski, a resident of Tucson, Arizona, was recently humbled by mountains she saw during a one-month stay in Colorado. Tolwinski's permenant residence in Tucson is to the south of the Santa Catalina mountain range, which appears to have endowed her with some sort of expertise as to what constitutes "real" mountains.

"Usually, I scoff at the so-called 'mountains' championed by residents of other parts of this country," explains Tolwinski. "I was just camping with these other two chicks in Acadia National Park in Maine, and I'm like, dude, you call these things here mountains? Psshaw, more like molehills! And when I was driving up to Colorado through New Mexico, my car's engine barely noticed those Sangre de Cristo mountains. I mean, that range is really some weak-assed shit."

However, since her trip to Colorado, Tolwinski now admits to a new feeling of humbleness with regards to the rugged landforms. "When I turned the corner on I-25 near Denver and caught sight of those snow-caps, I nearly peed my pants," the 26 year-old said of her first view of the Rocky Mountain range. "These mountains could totally kick the Catalinas' butts, hands down. I mean they are, like, waaaaaay fatter and waaaay higher." Tolwinski's assessment is likely true. While the Catalina mountain range stretches along the northern length of the city of Tucson, and reaches a maximum height of 9,157 feet above sea level, the Rockies span nearly 3,000 miles from British Columbia to New Mexico, and top out at an elevation of 14,440 feet above sea level.

Tolwinski mentions the impression made on her by Coloradan mountains on her way out of the state, as well. "So like, I'm driving over this one range today, and when I cross to the other side of the peak- get this- it's FREAKIN' SNOWING. It's in the dang 30's, in the middle of August, with these icy hail-balls all over the road and my car is slipping all over the place. But by the time I get to the bottom of the mountain, it's like, back up in the 80's," Tolwinski said of the San Juan Mountains, part of the western slope of the Continental Divide.

Despite her exposure to mountains grander than the Santa Catalinas, it appears unlikely that Tolwinski will stop trash-talking other mountain ranges anytime soon.

I Finally Take Advantage of Where I Live

A few days ago, I went on a road trip with two good friends to defray some post-qualifying exam stress. (No, I haven't heard the results of the test yet.) We drove about 6 hours, hung-over after a celebratory kegger, from Tucson to Lake Powell, which is smack in the center of the border between Arizona and Utah. It's a cool drive; you get to watch desert turn into pine forest as you drive up a mountain through Flagstaff on the way and the temperature drops 30 degrees. Then it gets friggen hot again as you come back down and drive through the Painted Desert, which consists of blobby dunes that look like some little kid's crayon set melted into the sand.

Lake Powell used to be Glen Canyon, yet another magnificent geological feature of the area carved out by the Colorado River. In the early 1950's, the Bureau of Reclamation build the Glen Canyon Dam under Eisenhower, which flooded the canyon for the purpose of creating a reservoir for the southwestern states. Environmentalists of the time strongly opposed the whole dam construction, but Lake Powell is still a very beautiful spot to visit. The water is a caribbean turquoise blue against the canyon walls-- totally unnatural looking, but gorgeous nonetheless. I have to say it's nice too that there's a body of water for desert dwellers to go in the summer to motor boat around, go swimming, and escape the heat.

Megan, Lori and I rented kayaks for a day, and did some awesome canyon exploring by water and our own arm power! We found some cool canyon walls to jump off of into the water below for an adrenaline rush.

On our way back toward civilization, we stopped in Page, AZ to hook up with a tour of Antelope Canyon with Navajo guides (access to this canyon is restricted to the Navajo tribe). This narrow canyon, carved out of sandstone by rushing floods, is gorgeous for the vibrant color of its walls, and for the smooth, awesome shapes of the walls. Some of the "rooms" of the canyon are shaped like a corkscrew from a whirlpool effect. We took some pictures of the canyon, but here are a couple taken by professionals, since ours don't really do the experience justice.

How cool is it that all of this was just a car ride away?