Colorado has a well-deserved reputation for being overrun by tourists. I’ve seen it before – after all, you haven’t lived until you’ve coordinated a wedding with 170 guests in the heart of Colorado’s tourist belt. Memorial Day marks the opening of the summer season across the state, and the San Juan Mountains are no exception to it.
All of this is to say that Ouray was a little bit crowded when Elizabeth and I visited. I’m not saying a blame anyone for that, though – it really is a beautiful town.
One of the more popular attractions in town is Box Cañon Falls Park. As the name would suggest, the park features (beyond a small nature center and a few short footpaths) a 500-foot-long trail that leads into the heart of a canyon through which a 285-foot-tall waterfall tumbles. You can come right up next to the waterfall from the platform near the ground, or you can take the arduous staircase from the nature center up to the top of the canyon. Fortunately for us, the Ouray Perimeter Trail crosses that upper part of the canyon, so there was no need to put our exhausted legs through any more abuse. There was, however, a $7 entry fee to the park, which seemed a little excessive given the fact that this park literally only contains a waterfall.
Elizabeth and I arrived at Box Cañon at about 5:30 (nothing is more than like a 3-minute drive away when you’re in Ouray – it’s a small town), parked in the little lot built into the side of the hill, and walked over to pay our entrance fee. One thing you can’t help but notice in Ouray – unless you’re right down next to the river, EVERYTHING is at a steep angle. You get a lot of minor elevation work in during the day!
The boardwalk leading back to the waterfall is basically built into the side of the canyon wall, way down near the water level. For some reason I didn’t take a picture facing upwards, but you’re a loooooong way down from the mountainside.
The boardwalk was made of the slatted metal that can be a bit unnerving to walk on, especially when you’re dealing with staircases made of it.
But make no mistake: of the three waterfalls we saw today, this was the one with the most raw power:
It was pretty sick how close you could get to the falls. There it was, raging off of the shelf above, literally right above my head.
It was also basically impossible to get into a good camera shot because of the sheer verticality of everything.
With that said, I have a few lingering impressions of Box Cañon Falls. First of all, it was extremely loud. Elizabeth and I were shouting at each other to try to have any semblance of a conversation. Second of all, it was wet. It turns out if you pour thousands of gallons of water over a cliff, some of it sprays around. The closer you got to the waterfall, the more a frigid mist wrapped itself around you like a wet cloak. But most of all, it was just awe-inspiring. The power of the water, the fact that this magical spot was tucked away in a location you might never know was there from even a few hundred yards away, the wild beauty… it was a great capper to our signature day in the San Juans.
There was one other spot near here that I wanted to see. As you can tell from the pictures above, Canyon Creek is pretty clear. But if you recall from our hike along the Ouray Perimeter Trail, the Uncompaghre River is a muddy, churning brown stream. Just below the park on the southwest side of town, the two meet. I’ve seen a few pictures of the water contrast and wanted to get a picture. It was a rushed photo – taken from the vantage point of the little one-lane bridge on Box Canyon Road leading back into town – but the view was worth it.
Our time in Ouray wasn’t quite over. There was still one more town attraction we had yet to visit – Ouray Hot Springs. I don’t exactly know what the backstory behind the hot springs is, just that at some point an enterprising townsperson decided to start funneling the water into a pool so that they could make a little bit of money off of it. There’s sort of a spectrum of a natural hot spring from “Boiling River in Yellowstone” – pure, wild, swim at your own risk – to Blue Lagoon in Iceland – domesticated, for people’s use, expensive. Ouray Hot Springs falls more on the Blue Lagoon side of the spectrum. To be honest, it’s mostly just a municipal swimming pool, though they have some hot-tub-temperature pools as well. It’s not Blue Lagoon expensive, but $20 is more than I’d probably recommend for someone traveling on a budget. Not that I have much regret for money gone; Elizabeth and I had a good time. Just do’t go in expecting too much.
We paid our entry fees and went into the locker rooms to change into swimsuits. The pools were crowded but not overwhelmingly so. You could find a decent spot to settle into the water and let some of the hiking tension from the day go.
Meanwhile, I was gratified to see that although it looked like a busy-ish severe weather day for my colleagues, the storm risk for Norman was rapidly dwindling. Scipio was safe. That would have made us relax even if we weren’t at a redneck spa.
I wasn’t really in a rush to go anywhere – letting out some of the tension of the day felt night, especially after the not-so-relaxing Perimeter Trail earlier that day. But around 7:00, dark clouds started gathering over the San Juans, and a breeze began to kick up. The two expert meteorologists in the hot tubs got out just before a windy little downpour kicked over everyone.
By this point, it was getting on toward dinnertime. If I recall correctly, we’d made a reservation at a steakhouse in Ouray that probably would have been pretty good. But there was something I’d seen back in Montrose (right by the Target we’d picked snacks up from the night before) that gave me pause. What could possibly be so good that I’d cancel a steak reservation and make Elizabeth drive 40 minutes back to Montrose to eat at 8:00 pm? What could possibly be so good that Elizabeth would agree not just willingly, but eagerly?
God bless you, Culver’s, and your delicious buffalo chicken tenders + fries.
Thus ended our Saturday in Montrose. Our long weekend still had a full day and night to go on Sunday, which carried with it less in the way of firmly-laid plans but more excitement for mountain scenes to behold. As I lay in the accidental twin bed in our cabin in Montrose, listening to Elizabeth snore from across the room, it took a while to get to sleep. Because who wouldn’t be excited to see Telluride for the first time ever?
