Very close to the park entrance, we get this view.

An elk calf! Young elk are surprisingly hard to spot, because their mothers tend to keep them very well hidden away. Certainly the first time I’ve ever seen one!

A pair of bighorn sheep. That might be literally correct, as it is a ram and a ewe. This photo is from up the Loveland Pass road – US-6, going to 11990 feet.

Loveland Pass. Infrared camera. Fisheye lens.

A ground squirrel. More of this little character later.

Early morning. I think this is Colorado state highway 72 just to the northwest of Denver.

An old alignment of state highway 7 reveals this silver post. At one point it had a glass reflector, but now it instead features a strip of Scotchlite … and plenty of layers of silver and black paint.

Flowers about ten feet away.

New layout, old color scheme.

Yellow flower is … very blown out in this picture.

Entrance to Rocky Mountain National Park.

A view in infrared.

Given the relative frequencies of creatures we observed, this place should probably be called Elk Ridge. US-36 ends here. Its other end is in Ohio.

Three-fourths of an elk. I took this photo blindly shooting out the passenger side window.

Mother elk crosses to the other side of the road.

One last shot of elkling.

Distant mountains, looking directly into the sun.

Same idea, different frequencies. The sharpness of the images at these frequencies is incredible – the atmosphere does not, at all, dissipate infrared light and turn it to a blue haze.

We prepare. We are, after all, going up only the highest point on the US highway system. Over 12100 feet!

Pointy mountains, pointy clouds.

Same picture in a different light.

Marmot is ready for his closeup. Only after I shot a few photos did I realize that I was, amazingly enough, too close.

The marmot finds himself a bit too photogenic for his tastes.

Encore performance? No, different marmot.

A piece of a halo.

Note the cutout arrowhead trail marker.

If you want Wyoming … go get it.

In case you were wondering what road signs looked like in infrared.

A roadside crevasse. Hooray for texture.

I have no idea who this clown is, juggling the cameras and trying his best not to fall into a crevasse. Apart from the fact that there were only two people on this trip … and Dan took this photo!

A peninsula of ice.

And one in infrared.

Always good to see a 1961-style US route marker. We have officially left the park.

Nearby dandelions, distant mountains.

Mountains and ranchlands. Infrared photo, explaining the somewhat unexpected color scheme.

Even more mountains.

Loveland Pass in visible light.

The top of the pass.

One from Dan from the same basic area.

Going through Eisenhower Tunnel on I-70.

We find ourselves some rain. The first rest area just west of the tunnel.

Dan uses the IR camera to get a much better photo.

A very European-looking sign for the town boundary.

This river is very near the end of US-24.

on interstate 70, approaching Glenwood Canyon.

The canyon itself. I-70 was built through here in 1992: one deck had to be diagonal above the other in order to be able to successfully fit it in.

Oh, does it now?

The road winds through the canyon. I did not get any particular photos, so here is a terrible one, in the hope that it is sufficient to inspire the audience to see it for themselves! It is well worth seeing.

Several tunnels are needed to put four lanes through the canyon.

What’s this, a two-lane road? We take Colorado state highway 139 north from Grand Junction.

Dan’s leg … and a squirrel.

Officially the most adorable little creature ever? I think so.

One last one of the squirrel from highway 139.

A dirt road which we will take into Utah, just to see if there is anything interesting at the state line.

The first marker on the Utah side. And no, I do not know who Snake John is either.

This very first Colorado marker sure has seen some better days.

This is the road which we just took to Utah … time to take it back.

And now we are officially in Utah, racing west on US-40.

Welcome to Vernal – home of the Pink Dinosaur. With those glorious eyelashes. Home of the Marilyn Monroe of the Mesozoic Era, indeed.

One final treat for the night… a cutout Scenic Byway sign! After this, we head back to the Salt Lake City airport under cover of darkness, and no interesting photos are taken.

and that’s all for this trip. next up – I think I might very well have to post the results of the northern lights run to Alberta and Northwest Territories!

Minimum maintenance road.

Flooding causes standing water. Standing water causes mosquitoes and other insects. A fresh source of food means the dragonflies grow fat and happy. This one was about three inches long, with a five inch wingspan.

We’ve got ourselves a good old fashioned lightning storm. Western Kansas.

We start with another train – no airplane fuselages this time, though.

The gantry tells the tale. At one point, this road was US-75, and the rightmost (missing) set of signs indicated that. Then, US-75 was moved onto the I-29 freeway, so they changed the gantry to indicate that – and added the new county route designation.

when they moved US-75 well into Nebraska, they took off the trailblazer, but oddly did not move the county signs to the main gantry. too much effort, apparently.

Green grass and high tides.

This old yellow stop sign might actually still be in service… it all depends on whether the dirt path it serves is a public road, or just someone’s driveway.

Old 75 intersects current 30. The sign dates to 1994, as evidenced by the sticker on the back, which implies that 75 was moved across the river after that time.

Iowa is the only state I know which uses outline shields for interstates so regularly.

One in infrared, for variety’s sake. Old US-30/75; the Lincoln Highway approaching Omaha.

Nebraska City is about the last place in the state where you will find these “BUSINESS”-tagged state route shields. The US routes are in a lot of places. The earliest ones date back to 1984, when the bypass was built.

The newer sign assemblies are divided into multiple pieces, like this one.

The view from the highway 2 bridge across the Missouri river between Iowa and Nebraska. Why is the water brown? A sewage treatment plant upstream was flooded. Ick.

The levee is holding … for now.

There’s an on-ramp in here somewhere.

You can see the first Iowa state highway 2 marker in the distance … not long before the road sinks.

The water isn’t usually this high. Or, this brown.

Instant business route marker… just add stencil.

Somewhere in Nebraska, this flower blooms.

We’re not just looking for pretty flowers. We are driving this road because it is an old alignment of Nebraska state highway 4. It got renumbered to US-136 sometime in 1951. The green post may very well have once held a NE-4 shield.

This might be the oldest sign we see in Nebraska. The black going all the way to the outside border, the yellow faded to white – this identifies the sign as mid-1950s. It’s on the same old alignment of NE-4/US-136.

Indeed, this sign was once yellow.

We are now in Kansas, where we find this white guide sign on an old US-24 alignment.

Cloud County indeed.

This storm cloud is centered over Salina, Kansas, over 75 miles away.

A railroad runs parallel to US-24. We catch this train just around sunset.

Blue skies and storm clouds.

The storm approaches. This is about a one-minute exposure, with the clouds being illuminated by successive lightning strikes.

We interrupt this meteorological quest to bring you a picture of an old brown 16″ county route marker. They’re getting quite hard to find in Kansas.

It’s electric.

Strike after strike after strike. I combined about seven consecutive exposures here.

The ranch fence gets one in the teeth.

One last lightning strike.

And now for something completely different. This might be the last cutout US route marker in Kansas. Apparently, the US-36 shields in St. Francis are gone, so this is it.

Next morning. As dawn breaks, we are in Colorado. Along the side of US-160 is this abandoned house.

Our first photo from New Mexico. It appears to be a large beast of some kind, possibly carnivorous.

Can a Prius go 100mph? Well, down a road I’ve driven far too many times… yes!

Oh dear, US-64 got demoted.

and that’s where we leave off for now!

Of course, it does.

Red rocks in winter. Colorado state highway 149 – just barely on the western side of the Rockies, after we cross on US-50 across Monarch Pass.

This deer is about to eat me, I am sure.

Ouray, Colorado. Looking back (south) at Red Mountain Pass that we have just crossed, on US-550 coming from Silverton. The Million Dollar Highway was built in 1913, and scarcely improved since then. Yes, there is still a sheer wall to one side, and a sheer drop to the other.

After a successful crossing – 3mph down the hill through a whiteout blizzard – I set up my tripod in the middle of the road, and while I was taking a 90 second exposure, a deer walked about two feet behind me!

Odd little white guide sign referencing Colorado state route 43, and US-285. Well, not all that odd if you consider Colorado’s sign design practices of the 1950s… but this is clearly a replacement. The original sign was about twice this big, and had shields.

Old embossed Park County route 22 shield. The round fonts and the embossing date this one back to the 1940s.

Lenticular cloud over the mountains.

Mountains. And snowbanks.

Headwaters of the Arkansas River – three peaks in a line visible as we head south on US-285.

US 50 across Monarch Pass. 11300 feet, in the dead of winter.

Just past Monarch Pass in Colorado. Still at about 10500 feet or so elevation.

More US-50.

I know you’re in there!

More of state highway 149. Well, okay, this isn’t quite it – this is the river that runs alongside of it: the Rio Grande.

Deer with Hitler moustaches.

Looking back across the Rockies.

And crossing the Rockies again. Yep, we just went across the Continental Divide on state highway 149. We’ll have to cross again on US-160.

Giant Phalli of the Rockies.

A tunnel – we’ve hit US-160.

Getting to dusk now on US-160.

US-550 going up the hill… in the dead of night.

Past Silverton. 9600 feet. Snow is coming down.

Full speed ahead (again, 3 mph) into the teeth of the snowstorm. Here is where we reach the summit and must begin our treacherous descent – down an ice-covered road, in a shitty rental car that was born without a concept of such interesting weather in its mind.

An original 1913 tunnel. We’re past Red Mountain Pass now, but we still are at over 10000 feet in the air… and it is still dark and snowing.

And we’ve reached Ouray – the other side of Red Mountain Pass, and while we are still at 7800 feet, we have made it across the worst of it. Yep, it is nearly two in the morning now.

Neon advisory sign that dates back to the 1950s. Yep, that is the mountain pass we just crossed – with no such luxuries as snow tires or chains.

I have no idea what this is a picture of … but it came out cool.

So this was all in the state of Colorado. Next up – a trip across Utah on US-50, I-15, and I-80… exploring Salt Lake City, looking for old signs of course.

18×18 I-90 shield. 1957 specs. And, more interestingly, an embossed arrow to point the way. Since the 1957 specification called for white, not blue, arrows, they took a 1948-spec arrow that they had lying around and used it to point to the new freeway.

This is the sign find of the day. There are only two shields with the original specifications left in South Dakota, and this is the only 18×18 example.

The Badlands – a sudden mountain range in the western half of South Dakota. These days, a tourist attraction – back then, in 1866, an impermeable obstacle that prevents one from reaching the west.

Black Hills, South Dakota. An eleven minute exposure, 6100 feet, -11 degrees. Yep, I was cold.

Look at the old I-90 sign. Just opposite this one, on the other side of the intersection, is the 18×18 ’57 spec one. In the early morning, as we head west on old US-16.

Train in the snow.

Old yellow stop sign! At a dirt-road side street to US-16.

Behold the llama. Yeap, there is a llama farm somewhere along old US-16 in South Dakota.

Bleak.

US-16 heading into the grimness westbound.

What’s this, the clouds are about to clear?

Perfectly camouflaged deer.

Cold. And fast.

The Badlands. Here we are!

More of the Badlands.

Mountain sheep far away from civilization.

The other old-style interstate highway marker found in South Dakota.

Getting dark, as we come across this 1961-spec US-14A shield.

Not often that you see “US” on the shield!

Nice and warm.

Stars. Car headlights. US-85 heading into the Black Hills – South Dakota in the dead of night.

One more in the night. Gotta love the star trails.

The Milky Way, under South Dakota skies.

Wyoming. Almost Colorado, in fact – interstate 25, the last rest area before the border.

At the Colorado border – in the background you can see the “Welcome to Colorful Colorado” sign.

next up… back to Colorado – and this time we successfully cross the Rockies, in a whiteout blizzard across Red Mountain Pass on the Million Dollar Highway, US-550.

I headed south to visit my friend Brian, then was about to turn back west to take photos of the Rockies… before noting that a Snowstorm of Usual Occurrence was blowing through and it would be at least two days before the roads were somewhat less than total failure. Thus, it became a frolic through the farmlands for a few days.

A wintry evening in Colorado.

Foggy night in farmland Kansas.

Hey look, an old sign. I happened upon this one in the middle of the night, and got the long-exposure shot out in the middle of the frosted fields.

Big green Sinclair dinosaur. Somewhere in Wyoming – wherever I spent the night, plus another sixty miles or so south on I-25.

Winter trees in Wyoming.

Interstate 25, plowed adequately.

Old signs. Wyoming does a good job of adhering to early standards for interstate shields, but their sign replacement policy is frequent and brutal – so this gantry from 1990 counts as old.

Somewhere in Denver, near to where Brian lives, some excellent clouds appeared.

Clouds straight overhead.

Iridescent clouds over US-36. Yes, if the ice crystals line up just right, they really do glow in rainbow colors like that! I barely got this photo while navigating the curves of the road – ten seconds later, the effect was gone.

Just past dusk. Here is where I realize there is a storm to the west, and crossing the Rockies would be a dubious proposition. Time to head east.

Someone’s tree, illuminated blue well after dusk.

A popular color.

Wreath and lamp post. I don’t remember which town on US-24 in eastern Colorado this is, but I think this photo randomly came out well.

There something wrong is the order with words of the sign this on.

In Kansas now. We see here the tree types of highway markers that Kansas uses – including both their regular (left) and slightly odd (right) takes on interstate shields.

Moon halos in the fog.

They are not particularly old, but those are indeed black guide signs for US-24 and K-25 in Colby.

Alas, I completely biffed this photo of what might have been the last photo of a Business Loop shield in Kansas. 1958 spec, no less. Why did I do so badly on this shot? Because the sheriff was busy escorting me out of town, having caught scent of me doing far too many U-turns near the black guide signs.

Not really. US-40 continues all the way to Park City, Utah. It just happens to meet up with I-70 here and is only sporadically signed until just west of Denver. But it hasn’t ended.

This speed limit sign has seen better days: like, when all of its friends and neighbors were embossed too.

A small town in Nebraska. We just crossed over on US-83 from Kansas.

Some trees. The background is illuminated by sodium streetlights in the fog.

And we’ve reached the freeway.

This is where we leave off, as we spend the next day scouring interstate 80 in Nebraska for old signs.

Here is the first day, and it involves no Route 66 whatsoever. Just Colorado and New Mexico.

Here’s sunset on the first day, on Johnson Mesa – New Mexico state highway 72 just east of Raton.

A fall morning in sunny Union County, where I depart from, to grab Kevin at the Colorado Springs airport.

The business loop in Raton is well-signed. Maybe not capitalized very consistently, but at least the sign is there on the freeway.

Just north of Raton Pass, heading north on I-25 in Colorado.

I-25 northbound, somewhere around Walsenburg or Colorado City.

US-85 is, for the most part, underneath I-25 in Colorado (and thus unsigned) – so where it does branch off, it appears as a sequence of distinct loops.

Series C is hardly ever found on Colorado shields, as they prefer E even for three-digit numbers. This one is in a construction zone, so who knows who made it.

This is not actually an old shield, but someone did grab the old specification for the shield shape when they manufactured this sign – and good for them!

Clearview? Inverted shield? Who is responsible for this??

This 24, complete with slightly odd font, may be the oldest remaining shield in the Colorado Springs area.

This doesn’t count – but nice effort there.

In Pueblo, an original bicentennial “76″ bike route sign. [Kevin photo.]

Colorado does not often use the wide shields.

Looks like someone really, really wanted both an interstate 25, and a US-160 shield – and had little use for banners. [Another Kevin photo.]

The very last pair of original-spec interstate shields in Colorado. Replaced as of February, 2010. They were at the intersection of Arizona St. and Colorado St. in Trinidad. Now who wants to find another example?

Heading back to Capulin from the airport, we take New Mexico state route 72 out of Raton.

For those that like their sunsets at a wider angle – I took three photos and put them together.

Here’s a 1950s Indian road sign! Complete with peeling numbers on some of the oldest engineer grade (does not fade to green) scotchlite I have ever seen. They invented the stuff in 1950 and this is not much newer than that. 18×12 inches; somewhere in southeast Utah near the Four Corners area.

This might very well be a meteor in daytime! I just noticed this when I was processing these photos – note the smoke trail in the middle. I have the photo from 1 second before, and 4 seconds after, and they show nothing – but this one definitely has that black streak, which I believe to be a smoke trail from a very bright meteor.

Behold the birds. Pagosa Springs, Colorado has this lake, fountain assembly… and swans!

Indian Route 20 is old US-89.

Looking back north towards Page on US-89. Watch for rocks.

And we are approaching highway 160, but still southbound on 89.

The sun begins to set…

There are very few of these 1960s markers around for San Juan County, Utah routes. They all were originally orange and blue, and they have all faded in the sun.

An old Navajo route in southern Utah.

And here is an even older San Juan County marker, with the border barely visible around the entire sign.

From the same general area as the meteor – here are the road and the red rocks.

Much later in the night – here is a 6 by 6 inch (tiny!) county route 2414 marker.

Next morning, in Colorado, where we head east on U. S. highway 160.

Sunrise making the reeds glow… a small lake not far from route 160.

Ominous, but eventually harmless clouds.

A view of a single swan. The males are white with black beak, and the females are grey with light grey beak. So now you know that this one is a …

The Rocky Mountains are a source of wind currents – perfect for some ballooning in the morning as the sun warms the air and the currents rise.

Further east on route 160 – by the side of the road is this long-unused switch engine with a red, white, and blue paint job.

In a small town in Colorado – on the side streets, far away from the main highway (US-160), the entire grid is signed with these instead of modern stop signs. They are embossed, non-reflective, and date back to the 1950s.

Colorado uses these blue shields for their scenic byways.

The mountains in late August – not a single flake of snow to be found. A brief detour off the 160 – we are on highway 12 approaching La Veta from the south.

Old, old, old La Veta Pass – US-160 was bypassed from this route by the 1950s. This is the 1930s two-lane road. Ask us about how we followed the two-lane road across an old bridge and right onto someone’s private property – and how they beheld us for the freaks we were, and promptly refused to let us turn around in the driveway of their colossal mansion.

They insisted that the approach road (which is clearly marked as a county route) is private land! So we had to back out, nearly a quarter of a mile, in a cargo van – did I mention that exploring old roads in such a vehicle is more difficult than usual?

Dale knows all about this relatively unfriendly woman … when we told him the story, he immediately said “oh, county route 403 across the 1915 bridge? Yeah I once had to back out of there too……”

Not quite a glass cateye … here is a 1940s plastic Stimsonite reflector that replaced the old glass reflector in this original silver-and-black-painted fence from the 1930s. Old La Veta Pass, and these posts still remain from when this route was done between 1912 and 1937, and upgraded between 1949 and 1953, before being entirely bypassed in 1960.

And here’s one that’s actually intact! The previous red one is just the backing – the reflective white matter long gone. Here you can see the white.

The end of the old route – you can see where the new and old roads branch.

Another 1910s bridge. There are quite a few on the old La Veta Pass road.

The very last pair of original (1958 specs) interstate shields in Colorado – most had vanished by the late 1970s, but there are two left, as late as December 10th of this year when I checked on them. And no, I will not reveal where they are. Suffice it to say, they are near interstate 25.

A red rainbow – at sunset, the atmosphere filters out most of the light that is not red. This is why sunsets are that color, and why this rainbow looks the way it does! This is when we ended up in Union County and our journey in the moving van was complete.

And that’s it ’til the next time! I think I’ll next upload some New Mexico and Texas route 66 photos from a trip just this November.

This is the New Mexico/Colorado/Oklahoma triple point. Dale takes this opportunity to breathe some refreshing Oklahoma air, and drink some water he has brought with him from New Mexico – and park in two states at the same time.

Dale parks the car squarely in a single state, and looks up at the Kansas/Colorado/Oklahoma marker that is visible from miles away – a good thing, because the dirt roads that one takes to get to it are somewhat labyrinthine.

The Oklahoma panhandle is known for the occasional thunderstorm.

One of Dale’s excellent Arizona state route 85 signs. That is a Navajo good-luck symbol – pay no attention to what they were doing with it in Europe a couple years after this sign style debuted in 1927. (And yes, you can have one of your own!)

That is one heavily loaded bee.

Old US-64 heads east towards Oklahoma. Several sections of 64 have been reduced to dirt road, including two several-mile ones that sandwich a seemingly random 100 foot long paved segment.

The area is filled with strange, demented beasts. Actually, this one is cute. Wait, what I am saying – oh no, the savage carnivores have eaten my brain!

Here, the road is paved – and there are no terrifying creatures to be seen anywhere.

Welcome to Cleaver Country.

This sign, several feet from the triple-point marker, may very well go back to the 1910s. It has the individual letters cut out of the steel with a blowtorch.

We rustle up an antelope.

We arrive in Boise City, home of this six-way (!) multiplex. And yes, the routes are multiplexed, and not just intersecting – all the way around the traffic circle surrounding the courthouse, you are on all six routes in one direction or the other. Too bad 325 doesn’t continue because, hey, that would be a seven-way multiplex.

Oops. Yes, it was once a U. S. route, but not quite with that number.

This is indeed a white guide sign. And it is brand new. It replaces a … different white guide sign that is from 2006. The entire roundabout is filled with white guide signs.

There is one green sign – located on the inside of the circle.

The Santa Fe Trail was divided into many branches, with the hope that at least one was serviceable during any weather event. This is the Cimarron River branch, and follows US-56.

The foreground flower is in Oklahoma. The background ones are in Kansas.

Dale is in precisely one state here: Colorado. He never quite made it directly under the marker.

Will we get caught in a thunderstorm at sunset? (Nope, we miss it by a few miles.)

This all that’s been placed to note the triple point between New Mexico, Oklahoma, and Texas. Texas gets identified by name – the other two are only plots of land.

Finally, we arrive at home… and so does the lightning. Here it is striking one of the television towers on top of Sierra Grande – this was before I realized that in order to attempt to catch a lightning bolt, I should aim the camera at the highest point of land between here and … Mount Kilimanjaro. (Seriously, in that general direction, that is the next point that is higher.)

On the mountain pass between Chama, New Mexico, and Cumbres, Colorado – both states call this one highway 17. The sky was dark blue, just after sunrise – the snow is that bright, and there is just that little atmosphere, at 10,000 feet.

Sunset over the plains of northeast New Mexico. Old US-64 (now state highway 325) near Capulin Volcano.

An undisclosed location in northeast New Mexico, home to my friend Dale. Certainly no old signs to be found anywhere.

Getting up early for the yellow yield sign.

Here’s a very old white guide sign … with a new shield bolted on top. I am quite sure that someone could make a crowbar discovery of an older COLO 184 black and white shield under there.

We turn off 160 onto highway 84, which just barely extends into the state from New Mexico.

And, look at that, we’re in New Mexico. But only briefly – we’ll be crossing between the two several times.

Highway 17, coming north from Chama across the mountains, back into Colorado.

The top of the pass.

Do not ask me how this photo came out these colors. Setting the white balance so the snow is white turns the trees in the sun … bright orange!

Further down highway 17, about to cross the main ridge of the Rockies.

And now we’re back on 160.

In one of the small towns on 160 is this extremely new-looking yellow yield sign. It is facing the southern sun, so if it were actually old, it would be a lot more faded. Someone definitely pulled out the wrong signing manual, and good for them!

The last known old-style shields in Colorado. They dropped the state name in 1971, and brought it back in the late 1990s, but this older style with the small numbers is next to impossible to find.

Now that is how to correctly display one’s cattle brand!

Too bad, because that is the old US-85/87 alignment heading over Raton Pass.

There’s one final old-style interstate shield in Colorado … yep, it’s just before the state line.

Who wants a decrepit old stop sign? Yes, this was once red and white, and now it is there for the taking, in a tree, somewhere in northeast New Mexico. In fact, not too far from where I’m staying for a few days.

At some point, it snows. I might be staying more than a few days!

Quick, let’s measure how much fell, using the handy-dandy rocket-launcher-looking precipitation collector!

A ridge of wind-blown snow.

The universal gesture for surrender.

Grim and frostbitten Saskatchewan.

Snow and ice, for everyone’s benefit.

Nothing like a snowstorm in the rockies!

Snow and ice and old signs everywhere.

One more.

Oddly, not a single bit of snow on the trees.

This one must’ve taken one for the team.

Time to venture out some.

NM-325 is old US-64 heading past Capulin Volcano.

Here, old 64 heads through Folsom.

Back at the ranch.

Strange, the snow didn’t shovel itself in our absence.

Certainly the best time of day to view old reflectorized signs.

Try not to drive quite so fast through the front yard.

One more view, of house and mortar.

And back home we go. We’re all the way across New Mexico by the time dawn approaches – this is a truck stop on I-40 in Arizona at the US-191 turnoff.

I’m not sure who came up with this, ahem, design concept.

Arizona used some colored loop route shields in the early 2000s, but apparently they suffered from fading problems, so the state abandoned them. There are still a few of them floating around the Phoenix area.

And here is black loop 303. Loop 202 was brown.

This is a horrible photo, but it does show this shield style, which California does not use often.

A view of Chuckwalla Valley Road in Riverside County, which is an old alignment of US-60/70, complete with 1940s style white railing.

Indio is not content to be precisely at sea level.

A 1930s porcelain Auto Club sign on old US-60/70.

And that wraps up that trip!

Through Arapahoe County, I-25 is an unrelenting 10 lanes with a rail line on the west side. The lane count goes down to 8 after I-225 and eventually to 6 on the un-reconstructed portion of the road near downtown. It reminded me of I-5 losing lanes headed northbound into Norwalk and downtown Los Angeles. As always, click the smaller photos to get the larger ones.

I-25 further north into Denver, is a mass of concrete that really blots everything else out. The bridges are “signature” and have the names of the streets on them as you pass underneath. The sound walls alternate between visions of Bison and Lasso, and mountains.

Denver’s Skyline from I-25… the skyline is huge, almost as big as Dallas, Atlanta, or Seattle – but very architecturally uninspired. In fact the skyline is one of the most boring large city skylines I’ve seen in the United States. There are some new condo towers under construction, and a great new addition to their art museum is on the way – though.

On to I-225 – the T-Rex reconstruction project rebuilt the southern few miles of the interstate, and it’s very nice. There are medium-height suburban office blocks all around, and a rail line in the center.

That abruptly ends as you head into the suburb of Aurora headed north, the road goes down to 4 lanes and becomes a traffic nightmare. Even now, at 2pm on a Tuesday. I’m glad I was not around at 5!

AAroads has Denver well covered, here, and it will continue to be updated in the future.