As we stood in front of the Duncan House and looked across the town to the mountain peak directly ahead of us, I thought about the men and women who had once called this deserted town home. We had followed the Animas River from Durango and Silverton and were now very close to its source in the snowfields above us. Early Spanish explorers called the Animas River Rio de Las Animas Perdidas--River of Lost Souls. I wondered how many souls had been lost in these mountains while searching for silver and gold.
But we didn't have time to ponder their fate. It was late afternoon, and we had to be back at the Silverton Visitor Center before 4 p.m. Kerry was waiting to hear about the roads, and I didn't want to disappoint him or cause him needless worry. We were five minutes late, but Kerry had waited for us, and I thanked him before we headed to our campground in Durango.
Be Advised: The information presented in this column is, to the best of our knowledge, correct and accurate at the time of publication. However, because of our lengthy lead time, we recommend you call the proper authorities or local experts for confirmation before visiting.
Editor's Note: Mud or snow on your windshield give you chills? Four-wheeling your weekends away? Got a good story to tell about it? Send us all the gear-popping seatbelt-tightening dust-kicking details in 500 words or less, along with your best photos (color slides, preferably), and we'll pay $300. Send to Truck Trend, c/o "On the Road," 6420 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, CA 90048. We'll publish your adventures.