Durango a Gogo
By Jim Rue
Durango, Colorado is a resort community filled with ski bums, college students and people who like being permanent residents of a resort community. It is a small town of 16,000, well insulated from the bustle of city life by being situated about 200 miles from anywhere else, aside from other small resort towns and Alamosa in the high desert to the east.
A Nice Place to Spend your Money
The town contains many restaurants, bars and gift shops. Several 1890's vintage hotels have upgraded their rooms, and Durango's narrow gauge railway bears a vintage steam engine over scenic mountain passes.
The Durango to Silverton line runs a round trip daily in the wintertime, and several trips daily in the summer. The railroad was completed in 1881. Unfortunately, it's expensive to ride! The summertime rate is $60, and $40 more for first class! Thomas the Tank Engine, with whom the town apparently has a business partnership, is also much in evidence.
Beautiful Scenery
Durango is quite isolated, being closest to 'Four Corners,' the intersection of Nevada, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado. Well-known ski haven Purgatory is nearby, but Durango is not so hellish. It is quite pretty and atmospheric, with crystal clean air, and beautiful mountain vistas in several directions. Durango itself is at an elevation of 8000 feet, high enough to affect the breathing of a lowlander.
Durango, CO has the look of an old town (by Western US standards, that is) which has seen hard times in the not-too-recent past. The downtown retail area has nearly 100% occupancy and an active nightlife, but there is evidenced a serious shortage of basic commercial services like computer stores, hardware stores and the like. Artists and local historians are rife. Durangans are quite proud of their area, though it is apparent that, as Robin Williams said in "Moscow on the Hudson," "Everybody here is from somewhere else." The economy is extremely dependent on tourism.
Proof of God
My short visit to Durango concluded with a magnificent drive through the San Juan Mountains to the east. Luck smiled on me, and I reached the top of Wolf Creek Pass, elevation 10,000 feet, just as the sun began to set behind me. Stopping at the pass ten minutes before the sun disappeared, I was awed by the view. Between my perch and Durango was a crevice over 3000 feet deep, with Four Corners on the horizon beyond.
The sky was clear and crisp, affording a stunning view of brilliant orange-red hues. The sunset reflected against billowing cumulus clouds rising above Purgatory more than a hundred miles to the southwest. The saloons and curio shops of the town I left behind had nothing to match this memorable moment of elemental splendor.