More than a quarter of a century ago, before the time of the transcontinental lines, the present writer, visiting his guard lines at 4 o’clock in the morning on the banks of the Purgatoire, has seen one rose-colored spot high up among the fading stars, and wondered what it was. The mirages of the plains had shown no mountains to the westward while daylight lingered. It was the sunrise on Pike’s Peak, eighty miles away.
To this eastward edge of the mountains and western ending of the plains all westward travelers come first, and it is here that the majority linger. In it are situated Denver, Colorado Springs, Manitou, Pueblo, Trinidad, Golden, Boulder, Fort Collins, Greeley, etc. These names are all familiar. Their situation in respect to each other is in a crooked line running north and south along the edge of the high plains, and about three hundred miles long. Greeley is furthest north and Trinidad furthest south. Denver is the center of the line, singularly situated as the gateway to all that lies to the westward.
It is useless to attempt to occupy attention with a description of this beautiful and well-known city. It is in reality of the plains, though standing at an elevation of over five thousand feet. To it all roads lead, and from it all go out toward the nooks and corners of an intricate mountain system. The foothills of the real mountains rise behind it, as high as the average Alleghanies.
Southward and northward from Denver lie the resorts that all tourists visit, whether or not they go into the interior, whose general aspects have been sketched in a previous chapter. Chief among these is Manitou.
The road from Manitou to the Garden of the Gods—One of the most beautiful drives known.
To visit Manitou it is necessary to take one of three lines running directly south from the capital to Colorado Springs, a distance of seventy-eight miles. This city is built on the mesa, and to be a health resort was not its original purpose. But such it is, and it has a wide reputation with that class who wish to avoid the activity and merriment of Manitou, which lies in sight to the westward. The hotels are fine, and, speaking largely, every day in the year is sunny. To be able always to see the mountains, and to be able also at any time, and by an easy railroad or carriage ride, to enter some of their most beautiful nooks, is an attraction to many hundreds of people. The town has a population of about twelve thousand, and an elevation of nearly six thousand feet. Like Denver, it stands on the edge of the plains.
Between Denver and Colorado Springs or Manitou there are several smaller resorts, all on railroad lines running south from Denver. Among these is the village of Castle Rock, deriving its name from the castellated cliff under which it nestles. Perry Park, a little distance away from the line, is in a park filled with rock formations similar to those found in the famous Garden of the Gods, near Manitou. Palmer Lake lies in the midst of good foothill scenery. The peaks of the Snowy Range are visible from near this point, and the walks and drives of the neighborhood are fine. Glen Park, half a mile away, is the Chautauqua of Colorado. It is one of the prettiest glens in this region of nooks and glens, and the cliff behind it is 2,000 feet high. The Chautauqua assembly is held here annually, and otherwise the place is used for summer residence and for outings.
Almost midway between Colorado Springs and Manitou, and in sight of both, is the old town of Colorado City. It was the first capital of Colorado, and in some one of the now dilapidated log buildings, wanderers in an unknown land called themselves to order after the manner of the usual American empire builder.
Manitou—About this unique spot there will always be something to say. But generalities do not describe it. He who has not been there at all can get from them no conception of the real place. And it is not so much a place as it is a locality; the center of a group of beautiful places that have made it, with its surroundings, a spot once seen never to be forgotten.