Dillon Reservoir, Colorado

Just getting here turned out to be the riskiest part of this outing. Front Range weather has always been schizoid. I've seen afternoon snow in June in Denver on the same day I wore shirt sleeves in the morning. In this case, it was 60 degrees in Denver, but by the time I headed up Route 40 to Grady Lake, the temp had dropped to 28 and snow and ice covered the entire road. I knew I had 5 miles of switchbacks ahead of me, so this Florida boy turned around and headed back down to Dillon, my Plan B. Just as bad if not worse. Cars all over the road and shoulders. But I had no choice but to push ahead to Dillon, as there were no exits until then.

I got there, got my boat checked at the ramp (they have an invasive mussel issue here), and slid uncomfortably into a strange boat. I felt like I was cheating on Big Blue. This one liked to pitch and most of the paddling was actually correcting the bizarre current and chop on this lake. Oh, and it was freezing cold and windy. Falling into this water would have literally been a matter of life and death. On my way out into the lake, I passed a large sailboat. The man at the wheel said "Great day, isn't it?" He wasn't kidding and I had to agree. A day spent on the water, in radical acceptance of the elements, is a good day indeed.

I've studied the DeLorme, combed every website I could find, and have now paddled some of it. I can go ahead and claim that Florida is much better for flatwater paddling than Colorado--and it's not even close. A dry state, Colorado does not have a plethora of natural lakes. It has rivers, but those are dry much of the time. Paddlers here concentrate on whitewater kayaking almost exclusively. That's fine, but for my meditative needs, the daredevil stuff falls short. 


Nevertheless, I plan to hit it again tomorrow and hope to have more visibility and calmness.