Escaping Denver and Exploring Glenwood Springs

 The turbocharger that had been originally expected to arrive last Thursday, finally arrived on Tuesday August 22.  On Wednesday at 7:15 AM the coach went into the bay once more, hopefully for the last time. They finished the installation shortly before 5:00 pm.  On Thursday morning they conducted final checks and tests, including a new "air handling test" which is the test they did to determine that the turbo was bad in the first place.  And finally, a test drive.  Everything passed (or at least they said it did .... more to follow).  We never did receive a credible explanation as to why the turbo charger failed.  All during the events leading up to our fault codes the coach seemed to be running fine, and the turbo boost pressures seemed normal.  

We escaped the Cummins service center shortly before noon.  We had been here for 15 nights, and had shortened or totally missed camping reservations in Kremmling CO, Rocky Mountain National Park and Nathrop CO.  The only good things I can think of about this experience is we were able to sleep in the coach each night (i.e. didn't need to go to a motel) and thus we got 15 nights of free camping .... so to speak.  

As we left the shop I immediately noticed a rather severe vibration and shudder when accelerating between about 5 and 15 mph.  Above 15 mph the shudder went away and everything felt fine.  I should have turned around and gone back to check it out then, but I didn't.  I was just so happy we were on our way, and besides, if something was wrong, wouldn't they have seen that during the test drive?  Perhaps it was just my imagination, or perhaps I had just driven over some rumble strips .... Not!  More on this issue later.

We headed west, first on I-76 and then on I-70 and made it through the metro Denver area rather easily. We then began a steady climb which would culminate at the Eisenhower Tunnel about 60 miles west at EL 11,185.

From Wikipedia:

The Eisenhower Tunnel, officially the Eisenhower–Edwin C. Johnson Memorial Tunnel, is a dual-bore, four-lane vehicular tunnel in the western United States, approximately 60 miles west of Denver, Colorado. The tunnel carries Interstate 70 (I-70) under the Continental Divide in the Rocky Mountains. With a maximum elevation of 11,158 feet above sea level, it is one of the highest vehicular tunnels in the world. The tunnel is the longest mountain tunnel and highest point on the Interstate Highway System. Opened in 1973, the westbound bore is named after Dwight D. Eisenhower, the U.S. President for whom the Interstate system is also named. The eastbound bore was completed in 1979 and is named for Edwin C. Johnson, a governor and U.S. Senator who lobbied for an Interstate Highway to be built across Colorado.

We last passed through this tunnel over two weeks ago eastbound and attached to a gigantic tow truck.  Not an experience I enjoy recalling.  Upon exiting the western portal of the tunnel we pulled off into the "brake check" area and had lunch. So far the coach was running well, excepting the low speed shudder, which had not been my imagination nor rumble strips.

After crossing the Great Continental Divide we began a long gentle descent heading west to our destination at Glenwood Springs.  The Colorado River carved the Glenwood Canyon and had stunning views. I-70 hugs the cliffs, often on elevated roadways and one roadway stacked on top of the other.  It is an amazing feat of engineering.

Views along the drive through Glenwood Canyon:

We had called ahead and Ami's Acres Campground, just a few miles west of Glenwood Springs, was expecting us.  The campground is very close to the interstate and the river, but we were parked way up on the hill and the noise was not too bad.  Our plan was to spend two nights here, spending the next day exploring Glenwood Springs.

The campground is built into the side of a steep hill and the entrance road and outer loop road were bumpy and steep.  The camp sites however were terraced into the hill and were level and reasonably large.

On Friday August 23 we poked around downtown Glenwood Springs.  John Henry "Doc" Holliday came to Glenwood Springs in 1887 hoping the curative powers of the spring would improve his lung ailments.  It didn't.  He died and was buried here in an unmarked grave.

From Wikipedia:

In 1887, prematurely gray and badly ailing, Holliday made his way to the Hotel Glenwood, near the hot springs of Glenwood Springs, Colorado. He hoped to take advantage of the reputed curative power of the waters, but the sulfurous fumes from the spring might have done his lungs more harm than good.  As he lay dying, Holliday is reported to have asked the nurse attending him for a shot of whiskey. When she told him no, he looked at his bootless feet, amused. The nurses said that his last words were, "This is funny." He always figured he would be killed someday with his boots on.  Holliday died at 10 a.m. on November 8, 1887. He was 36. Wyatt Earp did not learn of Holliday's death until two months afterward. Kate Horony later said that she attended to him in his final days, and one contemporary source appears to corroborate her claim. He died from tuberculosis.

Dorcas and I started the uphill trek to the Linwood Cemetery ... a light rain became a bit of a downpour.  I turned around and went back to the car.  Dorcas continued up the hill to capture some photos and just to say she did it!  The memorial to Doc Holliday says "This Memorial Dedicated to Doc Holliday who is Buried Someplace in this Cemetery".  I told Dorcas she should have picked up some of the coins left at the memorial to help pay for our Cummins work...

On this evening Oran Mor was playing at a weekly music series "Music under the Bridge"  They played a combination of traditional Celtic music, American folk and soft rock.

We watched the music from the patio at Casey Brewing and enjoyed some cool ones.

There was a lot of fish art.

Tomorrow we will depart Glenwood Springs headed for Montrose CO where we will meet up with our friends Dave and Lynn.

Still Marking Time

Various photos and ramblings while trapped at the Cummins Service Center near Denver:

Thankfully we had approval.  We didn't want to be towed ... again.

This fits us, we feel like we are living here

Maybe we can hitch a ride back to RMNP

I don't know why these two look so happy

The prairie dogs could get a little testy.

We found a local dog park only about 2 miles away, so we took Ginger out for some play days.  She made a lot of new buddies.

They apparently sell a lot of large engines, generators and other equipment out of this shop.  There is a different, very large building dedicated to sales and service of this equipment.  There was always a lot of very interesting and very large equipment coming and going.  About twice a week they brought in a gigantic crane to load and unload oversized trucks.

There was a sewer lift station about 15 feet from our parking spot.  On top of the control box was a red light that constantly blinked, apparently wanting someone to take notice and correct some malfunction or other. One night in addition to the blinking, the box began emitting a very loud and annoying wail.  It was hard to ignore. A day or so later a tow truck with a hoist arrived and lifted a pump that had apparently failed, out of the well.  Shortly, another tow truck, this time a flatbed, arrived and delivered a new pump in a crate no larger than a dorm-sized refrigerator.  Both trucks seemed to be quite a bit of overkill for their assigned tasks.  They hauled the old pump away but left the new pump on the ground.  What?  Where's the sewage going to go?  Will there be an overflow?  CRAP! Literally.

A few days later another crew arrived and installed the new pump, lowering it into the well with no more than a portable tripod derrick and a hand wench.  Now that's efficiency.  We learned later that there were actually two pumps in the well, and that they alternated service, and one would act as a backup if the other failed.  They told us the broken pump had been out of service for over two years. 

Eventually I tried to find some pickleball, and found some drop-in play at Bison Ridge Recreation Center.  This was a very nice and large facility only a few miles away.  I packed up my paddle and Dorcas dropped me off while she took Ginger to the dog park.  When I walked into the facility the place was nearly deserted.  Where are all the pickleball players???  There was a lonely lady at the reception desk who informed me that the facility had closed the day before for two weeks of scheduled annual maintenance. CRAP!  I called Dorcas to double back and pick me up.  She had not even gotten to the highway yet. 

Somewhere along the way we picked up a rock chip in the windshield on the Pilot, so we scheduled a repair at a local Safelite shop.  This shop was HUGE!  The shop and warehouse took up a whole city block. There were about a dozen bays and dozens of mobile repair trucks coming and going.  We were in and out in about 1/2 hour.  Perhaps the best service experience I can remember. 

 

Ernest T. Bass would have been in Heaven

I thought rainbows were good luck.  We found no pot of gold at the end of this rainbow.  

Stay tuned as the saga continues.