Travel Diary: USA – Colorado & New Mexico (July 2025)

Our four-day retreat at Flaming Gorge Reservoir (June’s Travel Diary) was exactly what the doctor ordered: white wine, feet in the water, and zero responsibilities. But alas, the road called. We crossed back into Utah, heading for Vernal—a town so clean and flower-filled it felt like a movie set.

Then, Tania spotted it: an “All-Day Breakfast” diner. We’ve wanted to do the “authentic American diner experience” for ages.  We pulled over, ready for movie-style coffee refills. ZAR600 later, we had experienced “biscuit” (which to us, is a scone with an identity crisis), flapjacks, bacon, fried potato and of course, bottomless coffee. It was pricey, but the waiter was a legend—he knew about Cecil the Lion, the 2010 World Cup (which he thought was the best one ever), and our major cities. Wierdly it’s always in the most bizarre places where people are the most clued-in about South Africa.

We ended the day at Dinosaur National Monument, where we gawked at over 400 complete fossils. It’s a literal graveyard of giants. However, our campsite that night was less “majestic” and more “prehistoric oven.” It was dry, dusty, and located in a valley that seemed to trap heat as a hobby 

The following morning, thanks to the heat and the millions of “miggies” (midges), we fled toward Steamboat Springs. We had hoped to stop halfway there but the turnoff to the BLM area we had in mind for camping on looked like a filming location for a gritty meth-lab documentary, so our survival instincts kicked in and we pushed an extra 170km across the scrubland towards town where we camped above it on Buffalo Mountain.

The bugs in Colorado are elite athletes. They literally chased us off Buffalo Mountain so after only one night, we descended back into Steamboat Springs for an “admin day”—the not so glamorous side of overlanding that involves hunting for water and a trash can. Both appear to be treated like rare antiquities in this town and were extremly hard to find.

By July 7th, we were near Frisco, dodging “post-July 4^th weekend” traffic. American drivers are generally great, but some have a terrifying “wait… wait… NOW!” approach to overtaking. One such “delayed” driver narrowly escaped with his life thanks to both the oncoming truck and ourselves slowing down to allow him space to pull-in.   After the head-on collision we experienced a few weeks prior, it was one close call too much and we pulled off very soon afterwards for a collective meltdown.

We ended the day camped in the Rocky Mountains next to an old wooden water tower which used to be on the Denver-Pacific railway line. It was an idyllic spot which come with its own form of excitement: an active shooter alert!  On our 2nd evening there, an alarm sounded on Stuarts phone along with a message that there was an active shooter in the area and to remain indoors.  Fortunately, the warning related to the the residential area in the valley below us and so while a bit nerve wracking we didn’t have much to worry about, apart from perhaps a bear or two lurking in the woods behind us.

Traders Joe’s is very funky, earth friendly supermarket frequented by young professionals who may (or may not) drive Subaru’s (see our last travel diary for an analysis of this creature) or ride bicycles. It might even be possible to determine the political leaning of a state based on the number of Trader Joe’s that state has?  We had been first introduced to the store in Arizona and learnt that in each state they have a unique shopping bag which has artwork depicting that states scenery or culture. Since then Tania had been on a mission to acquire one from each state we visited.  In Colorado, the only store locations are on the east side of the Rocky Mountains, so “as one does” we set off across the continental divide to buy a shopping bag or two.

What should have been a relatively short 3-hour drive, turned into a much longer one when Garmin took a roundabout route via Denver. The long day become longer when our cheap Mexican inverter burnt out. No inverter = no Starlink = no internet = complicated final navigation and store address research. 

The logical route to follow from here would have been south into New Mexico and then across to Phoenix for our flight home.  But with 4 weeks still available, we instead decided to once again cross over the Rocky Mountains in order to explore western Colorado. 

Unfortunately for us (and Mr Jones) he started running a fever. His expansion tank was leaking, and so he struggled to keep his cool on the many ascents the Rockies present. We tried to find a replacement part, but Colorado said “no.” We also tried to pay for water at a public spigot in order to fill up his water tanks, but it was locked. Apparently, Colorado is where equipment and thirst go to be tested 

Upon first appearances the little town of Buena Vista appeared rather bland but once off the main road it turned out to be quite funky and down these side roads we found a cool vintage car show including an old Series Land Rover on display, whose owner quickly lost interest in chatting with us when we told him about Mr Jones…

After a disappointing stop in Aspen (too much “pretentiousness” and traffic, not enough “funky”), we headed for Grand Junction and away from the mountains (or so we thought) to save Mr. Jones’s cooling system and have a stress-free drive. Along the way we officially moved from “Bear Aware” country to “Rattlesnake and Scorpion” country.

Our hopes for stress-free soon evaporated over the next few days when first the “house” electrics load-shed us, thanks to the overworking new fridge that simply could not cope with the heat and then a day later Mr J would not start. No lights, no horn, no engine. Just a silent, heavy Land Rover perched on a precipice above the Gunnison river – a stunning location but a rather remote one to break down at.  

A check of the obvious culprits (battery & fuses) revealed no issues which meant that some online research was required before Stuart began open-heart surgery on the dashboard. He discovered a “white plastic thingy” (technical term) on the ignition switch which was popping out. The solution? Zip ties and a piece of scrap aluminum bashed into shape. It worked! It was not pretty, and the dash didn’t quite fit back together, but Mr. Jones lived to fight another day.

We celebrated our mechanical genius by driving the “Million Dollar Highway” toward Durango and onwards towards New Mexico. It’s claimed to be the most scenic drive in America, but with zero guardrails and 1,000-foot drops, Tania spent most of it trying not to look out the window.

Just as the road fatigue was setting in, we found our “tribe” on some Army Engineer corps land near Santa Fe. While sipping our morning coffee, a Swiss couple—Daniel and Gabriela—cruised past and stopped to say hi. It turned into one of those rare, long conversations of substance that we had found so hard to come by on this leg of the trip.

Santa Fe itself is a stunner, famed for its art and galleries, though it clearly doesn’t want visitors without a US phone number. You can’t “park and pay” on the street without a specific app that requires a US-registered phone! We eventually found a municipal lot and with a thunderstorm brewing we opted for a $60 lunch of delicious margaritas, nachos, and quesadillas.

A couple of days later we reunited with our new Swiss friends for a night at the Tumbleroot Brewery. We were hunting for live music and good beer. We only got the beer (no music on a Wednesday, sadly), but the real “headliner” was the brewery’s policy: they allow overlanders to sleep in the car park. No designated driver? No problem. We swapped stories under the New Mexico sky, secure in the knowledge that our “commute” home was only twenty paces to Mr. Jones’s back door.

The final push to Phoenix was a test of nerves. The interstates are dominated by massive trucks doing in excess of 120km/h while Mr. Jones wheezes along at 85km/h on a good day.  Being tailgated by a semi-truck who only leaves a 3-meter gap is a very effective way to ensure you never need a morning coffee again! 

By the time we reached Sedona, the heat was a staggering 44°C. The red sand in this area is so fine it gets everywhere and it didn’t take long before Stuart had developed a “sweat-induced six-pack”—basically, the sand stuck to his stomach folds, leaving white lines where he sat. Highly recommended for an instant gym body but not much else!

The attraction of airconditioing and a long shower was too great, making it an easy decision to head into Phoenix a few days earlier than originally planned.

It was time for a well-earned rest and to enjoy our “new” home in South Africa, nine months and 20,000km had given us loads of memories but also truly challenged us with maintenance issues. Waiting for us in Phoenix was a new coolant tank and so before tucking Mr. Jones away for his own well-earned rest, we replaced the tank at 5am (because it is the only sensible time to work in summer time temperatures there). 

Mr Jones had the final say on the day we put him into storage – Stuart’s “white plastic thingy” fix—held together by aluminum scraps and zip ties, gave up the ghost literally 50m from his final parking spot, it had lasted over 1,400km.  

Stick around to see if our 2026 return involves a proper repair or just a bigger bag of zip ties!

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