The past two days have brought me from near the Kansas border almost due west, deeper into Colorado. I keep interrogating the horizon, seeking out my first glimpse of the Rockies–locals swear it’s possible to see Pike’s Peak from here in the right conditions–but the prevailing flatness remains implacable. Actually, that’s a little unfair; the terrain continues sloping gently uphill, barely perceptible but there, and occasional ripples hint at impending change. But still, the cliche I kept hearing, that Eastern Colorado = Western Kansas, holds true thus far.
No dominant narrative has emerged over these last two days, so instead I offer a handful of snapshots:
1) I’ve been listening to Simon Winchester’s The Men Who United the States, which felt appropriate given my continued adherence to the Santa Fe Trail. Winchester mentions at one point that the explorers on the trail would have missed out on one of the most stereotypical elements of the plains, the mighty tumbleweed, as it didn’t actually arrive in the US until the 1880s. The tumbleweed, it turns out, is the Russian thistle plant, and it may have been transported accidentally in a flax shipment. Once here, though, it spread like mad, sweeping the country in cattle cars. Despite its notoriety, though, I didn’t see a single tumbleweed in Kansas. It felt like a huge rip-off! Imagine my glee, then, when a tumbleweed finally blew past me, just outside of Lamar. Today brought the motherload; while they weren’t on the move, some of the ditches on today’s walk were filled with mounds of the tumblers.
2) Sunday’s highlight, other than the tumbleweeds, was the John Martin Reservoir and neighboring Lake Hasty, centered around a dam on the Arkansas River. (A home neighboring the state park boasted the largest and most prominent Confederate flag that I’ve encountered on the walk.) I had been struck in Kansas by the dried out river beds that marked the Arkansas in much of the state, so this helped to explain some things. A farmer from La Junta, Gary, told me later that Colorado and Kansas have a deal, with 60% of the water belonging to Colorado and the remaining 40% to Kansas, all of it going towards irrigation. However, it turns out that the agreement between the two states wasn’t quite so clear, with a 40-year dispute only finally being resolved earlier this year, ensuring that more water is devoted to fisheries and recreation.
3) Sunday’s walk was my hardest day of walking in the last month, and maybe the toughest of the trip. It wasn’t the longest, running 36 or 37 miles, and the terrain certainly wasn’t challenging, and even the first 18-20 miles to Lake Hasty were smooth sailing. I departed Lamar early, grabbing a coffee at the Love’s gas station at 4:30am, and enjoyed first the stars and then the sunrise, with much of the walk on barely-traveled dirt roads. I had some bad luck after that, getting shut out at an RV park grocery and then at Hasty’s general store, and had to push through the last 16 or so miles with 1.5 liters. It was warm, perhaps 90 degrees, but not oppressively hot. The big game-changer today was the wind, constantly in my face, and often carrying white fluff that got in eyes and nose.
I was eagerly counting down the miles in my final approach to the Bent Fort Inn, thirsty and footsore, as worn down as I can remember being. The hotel is situated two miles outside of the nearest town, Las Animas, but it has an on-site restaurant, and I was ready to pay whatever price for that convenience. I staggered in and discovered that the restaurant was closed on Sundays, so I’d either need to walk an additional four miles, round-trip, to eat or go without. I leaned on the counter, waiting for the lady to process all of my information, and had a sudden wave of lightheadedness come on, an unusual experience. I don’t know if the check-in process took her longer than normal, but it felt interminable, and all that I could think about was how much I wanted to lie down and drink water for the next three days. Finally, she handed me my key, and I stumbled down the hallway, weaving from side to side, refusing to allow myself the luxury of embracing gravity and falling to the ground.
15 minutes later, after a really satisfying lie-down, I was back to normal. I quickly confirmed that Las Animas lacks Uber Eats and that neither of its two restaurants open on Sundays offer delivery. Just as I prepared to make one more call, to offer the Mexican restaurant $20 to drive me some food, my phone started ringing. The lady at the front desk was worried about me. She said she could arrange for her husband to drive me to Dairy Queen. I quickly accepted and hopped in the car. There’s not a ton for a vegetarian to eat at DQ, so I ended up with fries, a side salad, a blizzard, and a pepsi, so whatever I lacked in nutrients I offset with calories and fat. Good enough.
4) My quads were sore this morning for the first time on this trip. Damn dehydration.
5) Today’s major highlight was Bent’s Old Fort, another stopping point on the Santa Fe Trail. Unlike Fort Larned, this was a private operation, oriented solely towards trade. Indeed, it was the center of the Western fur industry for the better part of two decades, from its founding in 1833 by the Bent brothers. At the time, the Arkansas River, on which it was situated, was viewed as the border between the US and Mexico. In the years to come, the fort would be conscripted into US military operations, becoming a major staging point for the Mexican-American War. It’s another example of how quickly the environment was transformed along this route; over the course of those two decades, the buffalo herds were mostly gone, the cottonwood groves has been wiped out, and cholera was becoming an ever greater concern.
Settler-Indian relations also declined over those two decades, to the great regret of the Bent brothers. Whether for purely pragmatic reasons or not, the brothers worked diligently to foster positive relations with the Plains tribes. They traveled personally to Indian villages, offered generous trade terms, and kept alcohol out of their deals. William Bent married a Cheyenne wife, Owl Woman, and often lived in her village (known by the tribe as “Little White Man”). Indeed, relations with the Cheyenne were so positive that they often intentionally established villages closer to the fort, to benefit from the proximity. The Bents became known as peaceful intermediaries and over time their fort was used to host intertribal peace councils. And yet, for all their work, they couldn’t hold back the force of change. The Mexican-American War and the gold rush brought an ever-increasing flow of fortune-hunters and thrill-seekers, who lacked the same regard for the indigenous population.
The fort fell into disrepair, as an embittered William Bent moved on to found Bent’s New Fort, closer to Lamar. By the mid-1900s, it was in ruin. Congress established it a National Historic Site, though, and then they decided to completely rebuild the fort, closely following historical documentation. Thus, today the fort looks much as it did at its peak, with all of the rooms open for visit. For better and worse, it’s also the site of a “living history” feature, with park guides wearing traditional dress and partially performing roles. It’s a bit much. Nonetheless, the fort itself is stunning, building out of the Mexican style of adobe construction.
6) “This weather is unbelievable,” says Gary. “It’s just not like it used to be.” Gary has been farming in the La Junta region for the past 25 years, and he can’t get over the degree to which the weather has changed, becoming more extreme and unreliable. This part of Eastern Colorado, he says, never used to be so hot at this point in the year. The changing nature of weather has been a recurring theme on this walk, with the historic flooding in Missouri and parts of Kansas dominating the discussion there. What stands out to me in these conversations is that people aren’t generally viewing this year’s events as a weird weather year; instead, they see this year as part of a larger trend. For all that, nobody has volunteered the term “climate change.” It seems like some language has been so compromised through political rhetoric that people want to maintain distance from it, even if their Venn diagram with that term has a substantial amount of overlap.
7) Somehow, I’m already down to single digits. Just nine more walking days until Denver!
