Million Dollar Highway
Colorado
This was Alan’s must-do drive—before the high mountain passes closed for the season around mid-October. We rolled into Durango, a historic mining town turned adventure hub in southwestern Colorado. The air was crisp, the aspens just beginning to turn. We grabbed a late lunch at Chimayo Stone Fired Kitchen, where wood-fired pizza and a local IPA hit the spot after a long day behind the wheel. Main Avenue’s old brick storefronts glowed in the afternoon light—boutiques, outfitters, and saloons that still carried a trace of Wild West swagger.
We checked into La Quinta, just outside downtown—perfect for laundry, re-stocking, and catching up on housekeeping. The next morning, with coffee in travel mugs and Kodi’s nose pressed to the window, we started the San Juan Skyway—a 236-mile loop through the heart of the San Juan Mountains.
Our first stop was Silverton, another mining relic preserved in time. The entire town is a National Historic Landmark, its dirt streets and false-fronted buildings looking like a movie set for 1905. We had lunch at Golden Block Brewery, housed in what was once a saloon. That night, we tucked into a cozy guesthouse The Avon, the temps dropping below 40°.
At sunrise, we hit the road again for the legendary Million Dollar Highway—the stretch of U.S. 550 between Silverton and Ouray. The road clings to cliffs with no guardrails, winding through alpine passes at over 11,000 feet. Every turn revealed another gasp-worthy view: waterfalls tumbling down granite walls, rust-colored peaks catching the light, and—just when we thought it couldn’t get better—a moose crossing the road and vanishing up the mountainside.
Descending toward Ouray, the scenery softened into lush valley greens. We passed the Idarado Mine Reclamation Site, a tribute to Colorado’s mining past, then Bear Creek Falls, its viewing deck perched right on the highway. A roadside plaque honored Otto Mears, the fearless engineer who carved this road from sheer rock in the late 1800s.
The town of Ouray—nicknamed Little Switzerland of America—appeared below, framed by jagged peaks and a neon sign marking Box Canyon Falls. We took the short metal-grate walkway through the slot canyon to the roaring waterfall before grabbing lunch at Ouray Brewery—a burger and a cold local ale on the rooftop patio overlooking town.
Rather than stop there, we pushed onward to Telluride, completing the Skyway loop. The switchbacks eased, the mountains opened, and by dusk we arrived at The Hotel Telluride—a splurge that felt like pure luxury on budget dollars. Dinner at West End Bistro capped the night: we could relax a moment having conqured one of America’s most breathtaking roads.
