NORTH STERLING LAKE STATE PARK – COLORADO
Marci and I are both Colorado natives- so a State Park on the
eastern plains does not motivate us to hasten packing the camper to get there
as quick as we can. But we were able to cobble five days off and this was the
only joint with availability for a long trip on short notice.
The park has an abundance of camp sites. Loops with 50 amp service, and others leaning
towards the more rustic. We are located in the “Inlet loop” (with 50 amps) and
are about 20 yards from the lake. All of
the sites are drive through with curving gravel driveways. They each have a picnic table (with wind shelter)
and fire pit. The sites are far apart
with broad grassy fields surrounding laid back RV’ers.
Nice.
During the weekend there were plenty of folks fishing along
the water’s edge. I only saw a few
caught – but there are teeming schools swimming among the submerged trees – I
know this because they jump at a rate of 2-3 a minute in the evening. And when I say jump – I’m talking Bruce
Jenner (pre-Caitlin) style. Well over a
foot of fish coming out of the water and returning with a loud slap and splash.
Impressive.
There are also huge white birds (White Pelican) drifting by
the shore in perfect concert – each move like a Fourth of July Regatta.
Now, I think that you can tell a lot about a place by paying
attention to the little things. I notice
that the informational boards outside the “camping center” are cracked from
overexposure to the sun. The parking lots (designed to handle 700% more
vehicles than actually visit) have weeds poking through the cracks. Marci and I
are both wondering why more people don’t visit?
I walk the trail leading south from the lake and impressed
by the vision some overachieving state planner had when laying out the
extensive network. Miles of level gravel
walkway – winding around the inlets crated by an unnatural body of water. It
strikes me that there are no signs of use.
The dirt is soft under my feet – each crackle a reminder that no one has
walked this stretch for at least a year.
I see an occasional track from a government RTV – but even these look as
if they were left months ago – perhaps during the obligatory annual fall
inspection.
I relish museums! They
are like quaint collections of keepsakes that
someone
thought other people would find fascinating long enough to induce them to buy a
custom t-shirt, or a highly polished cedar knick-knack. North Sterling State Park boasts a Visitors
Center
and a Marina (only open on
weekends and holidays during off season). The Visitor’s Center – attended by a
pleasant woman who’d likely worked here seven years – but never once glanced in
the two display cases, was a cute one-room
affair. With large mounted Walleye and Carp, plastic
framed amateure bird photos, and an instructive poster about snakes (apparently
– round-pupiled snakes are not dangerous, slowly
retreat from those with a
“cat-eye”), I was enthralled. There
were several (ok, two) fossils of undetermined age or species, three degrading
rattles from a cat-eyed snake, and a piece of carved driftwood (it was
definitely carved – but I’m not sure into what). But the most impressive, was a homemade
shadow box of used fishing lures. The
plexi-glass cover bore the marks of an unconventional (or perhaps unskilled)
artist whom had probably been collecting rusty lures for a decade before an
acquaintance suggested a display case 59 minutes into ‘Happy Hour’.
Delightful.
It was also telling, on our third full day, when we first
encountered the entrance station – “staffed”.
“Welcome to North Sterling Lake State Park”, the cheerful,
seasoned, round-cheeked attendant said, reciting the park’s entire formal name
– as if she were a recent graduate of the new state park employee orientation.
“Hi there. We were
wondering if we could get a copy of the park rules?”
Her brow furrowed, as if she was running through the
possibilities of which mandate we were hoping to violate (or more likely
already had).
Wryly, “Boating,
or camping?”
Rules matter at this park.
“Umm, camping.”
“Fine”, she said, a little disappointment evident in her
voice.
That was when I noticed the second employee (must be peak
hours – though there was not another vehicle in sight for miles). She lifted her head from the table in front
of her. As if it was worth a gander at someone who actually asked for a copy of
the rules. Her seventeen-year-old hazel
eyes perused our truck and each of us before she plopped her head back on her
arms. I noticed that her mascara was a
little smeared – and traces of makeup remained from an earlier soiree. Perhaps prom went late last night?
And while on the
subject of rules, the camp host (a group- camp hosts I mean - I strongly
recommend to an aspiring sociologist for field work or even a doctoral thesis)
made his presence known early. I can only imagine the conversation in their
trailer before he whipped his state issued golf cart around the bend to direct
that we move the front left tire off the grass adjacent to our site.
“That’s it. I’m gonna go issue a warning!”
“Are you sure, dear?
It isn’t really that big a thing.”
“Maude, there has to be order. The State of Colorado has entrusted me to
enforce the rules (glancing at his framed 8x10 certificate, signifying 2016
Camp Host Class completion). I will not
let them down.”
And after years of similar conversations, Maude answers,
“Whatever you think is best, dear.”
RATING: *** (Three stars)
THE GOOD:
·
Beautiful views
·
Abundant spacious sites
·
Pay showers
·
Swim beach
·
Great trails
·
Sunset and stargazing areas
·
Plenty of facilities
THE BAD:
·
Camp site not filthy, but some small trash and
the fire-pit a bit dirty
·
Bathrooms not nasty – but not clean either
·
Prairie dog holes (be cautious)
·
Snakes (watched one being removed from a
neighbors camp site – just remember, they were here first!)
THE UGLY:
·
Officious Camp Host (c'mon, just be nice)
·
NEVER open your awning in a campground located a
scant few miles from wind-farms!
WORTH COMING BACK? Yes
RECCOMENDED? Yes
This morning we woke up at the KOA in Wendover, NV (there is
a free 24 hour shuttle to the Casino – located about 300 yards away – for the ‘gamin’
camper). After 550 miles the day before, we planned to head across the salt flats in the cool
morning. And then I saw the tire.
