Stagecoach State Park
1 / 1
Stagecoach State Park turned out to be the perfect reset after our stretch in Rocky Mountain National Park. Rolling hills, wide skies, and a quiet reservoir stretching out in front of us. No agenda. No big hikes. Just space.
Stagecoach State Park
1 / 11
Steamboat Springs was only about 45 minutes away and had been loosely penciled into the itinerary. We had also casually considered kayaking the lake. But after days of hiking and moving camp, we chose to keep it simple.
Instead, we drove into nearby Oak Creek and took care of laundry. In the rhythm of this trip, that counted as R&R. The laundromat was surprisingly comfortable, with a couch, a TV, and solid Wi-Fi. We officially crowned it the Carla & Danny Best Laundromat Award. It held the title for the rest of the trip.
We grabbed lunch at Lupita’s Cantina and sat at the outdoor bar. The food leaned Tex-Mex, and the sweet chili sauce hit the spot. Oak Creek had that authentic, down-to-earth small-town feel that matched the slower pace of the day.
That evening, we drove over to the Yampa River outlet, a spot I had read was popular for birding. The air was full of birdsong, and the Merlin app was enthusiastically listing all sorts of feathered friends. Unfortunately, every single one of them appeared to be hiding deep in the reeds.
We did manage to spot a lone Brewer’s Sparrow, a beaver working the water’s edge, and a pair of Sandhill Cranes way off in the distance. Not exactly a banner birding session.
Instead, we drove into nearby Oak Creek and took care of laundry. In the rhythm of this trip, that counted as R&R. The laundromat was surprisingly comfortable, with a couch, a TV, and solid Wi-Fi. We officially crowned it the Carla & Danny Best Laundromat Award. It held the title for the rest of the trip.
We grabbed lunch at Lupita’s Cantina and sat at the outdoor bar. The food leaned Tex-Mex, and the sweet chili sauce hit the spot. Oak Creek had that authentic, down-to-earth small-town feel that matched the slower pace of the day.
That evening, we drove over to the Yampa River outlet, a spot I had read was popular for birding. The air was full of birdsong, and the Merlin app was enthusiastically listing all sorts of feathered friends. Unfortunately, every single one of them appeared to be hiding deep in the reeds.
We did manage to spot a lone Brewer’s Sparrow, a beaver working the water’s edge, and a pair of Sandhill Cranes way off in the distance. Not exactly a banner birding session.