As we approached the Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park, I suggested to Don that we stop. After all, we had a National Park pass. We should use it. The twisty, winding road was just a preparation for the rest of the day . . . We just did not know it.
The Black Canyon of the Gunnison, a geological marvel in and of itself, is a one-half mile deep gorge, which is half the size of the Grand Canyon . . . but it is straight down. No gradual decrease. Because of the nature of the rocks, they eroded at a torturously slow pace, and without a glacier to help, it just went down, down, down.
Later in the day we stopped to see a gorge of a different kind. The Royal Gorge was carved by the Arkansas River. We were anxious to see it since we were both quite young when we saw it last. To our disappointment, it was closed. A fire in June of last year destroyed over 90% of their buildings and the visitor's center. No one was allowed in, and although there was a free viewpoint, Willie could not make it, so we left without being fully gorged. Good thing we had spaghetti and fresh Colorado peaches for dinner!