Cuchara River Valley Colorado - a great place to spoon

November 20, 8:34 PMColorado Springs Motorcycle Travel ExaminerAJ Butler

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La Veta Transportation

Photo by AJ Butler 2009

Take a swift left turn on CO-12, the Scenic Highway of Legends, to access the most beautiful valley in Colorado: The Cuchara River Valley, shaped like a cuchara, the Spanish name for spoon. A whimsical legend purports that the valley owes its shape to a giant who laid down his spoon which left a permanent imprint. It is no myth, however, that this is a land so rich in wildlife, streams and uncharted hiking paths that it represents what everyone believes to be the real Colorado. And, there are hundreds of hidden spots to fly fish, bird watch or, like Adam and Eve before the Fall, just bask in Paradise.

Like a wild horse, our BMW RT1200 seemed to beg us to take this detour on our ride out to Pagosa Springs, Elkwood Manor B&B and Treasure Falls. The scenery includes an incredible array of Paleozoic through Tertiary rock formations unknown in other parts of the world. These unique vertical walls of sandstone (like the Dakota Wall) jut out from hills and mountains like dinosaur backs. You ride very close passed the walls on rolling terrain that gently weaves and loops around rich pastures and pines and over the Cuchara River. There are several points of interest stops near the formations which name and explain their origins.

A spiritual, still pristine and little known area, the Utes and Jicarilla Apaches believed the Cuchara River Valley to be "the original birthplace of all living things." The Sangre de Cristo Mountains loom large and imposing around the valley. Nearby, sits the town of La Veta (1876) which translates into "the mineral vein," reminiscent of the mining claims that made the town a destination of the 1800s.

The valley remains untouched despite its mining aspirations. In 1878, about the journey to the top of Old La Veta Pass, Helen Hunt Jackson wrote: "From the mouth of the pass to the summit is Measured in miles - fourteen miles; Measured in hours - three hours; Measured in sensations - the length of a dream."

The only thing Ms. Jackson missed out on during her trip to the Pass was the thrill and romance of riding pillion on a motorcycle like me--incredible and unforgettable.
 

Please view the slideshow below and don't forget to SUBSCRIBE above. Check out the view from the front of the bike, too.