A walk etched in memory
“We’d clamber over the rocks on the north side of the canyon to one of the huge, smooth boulders that jut out of the creek. With a picnic, we’d luxuriate in the last of the day’s sun”
The entrance to Eldorado Canyon on the eastern edge of Colorado’s Rocky Mountains is awesome in every sense of the word. I slip into the gorge through a slit in the mountains just wide enough for the roaring creek and the state park entry booth. On either side of me are vast towers of red sandstone forced upwards, folded and cracked by unimaginable force into characteristic ‘flat iron’ formation. Above, a crisp line of delimitation, where rosy rock
