Istanbul was Constantinople, Baghdad was Babylon (and one wonders if it might be worth going back to a name with a little less baggage), and Durango was Animas City. We went in search of quintessential Colorado, and here it was, all seemingly tied to the romantic railways of yore.

Over a century ago most activity in the southwest corner of the state was limited to ranching and mining. The train was essential to economic growth, and when the Denver & Rio Grande decided to build a spur line up to the mines in Silverton, they planned to run it through the small community of Animas City. Depending on whose version of history you believe, the city fathers got greedy, or the railroad people were obstinate. Either way, the result was the establishment of a new town by the rail company, named by a D. & R.G. executive after Durango, Mexico, whence he had just returned.

Today, most of the mining is gone, and ranching has few practitioners. What drives the wheels of progress in Durango is sports and tourism. This makes it an ideal weekend drive from just about anywhere on the Front Range. And when you get there, you most definitely wont want for things to do.

For the athletically inclined there’s a huge playlist: the two million acres of surrounding wilderness and National Parks cater to hiking, backpacking, hunting, horseback riding, mountain biking, rock climbing, four wheeling, and quiet contemplation. The Animas river play home to rafting and kayaking for beginners and experts alike, while alpine lakes like Vallecito allow the more sedate amongst us to cast a line while drinking in the natural beauty of the San Juan and Needle ranges.

My traveling companions and I sampled a bit of everything. A night in town was spent at galleries, watching terrific local artists like Neil Hannum display their works, followed by a world-class dinner at Seasons Rotisserie and Grill. I’ve never had a dining experience that was less than excellent there, and the breadth of menu selections left everyone satiated. This was followed by a bit of bar hopping, and as a mountain town, there was an eclectic array of local live music and differing crowds—ranging from C&W tunes and tourist such as ourselves in the Strater Hotel’s saloon to locals digging more modern riffs at Steamworks Brewery. Lodging that night fit our western theme; the restored late-Victorian Rochester Hotel has been there since 1892, and each room pays homage to a horse movie filmed in the area. A hearty breakfast in the communal dining area set us on our way to Wilderness Trails Ranch, where we would spend the next few days.

But not before two of us got up early to express support for several friends who were participating in the Iron Horse Bicycle Classic. This ride also traces its history back to steam power; it seems that one of the brakemen working the line in the mid-1880’s had a brother who would race the train from atop his newfangled bicycle all the way to Silverton, eventually growing strong enough to beat the coal-fired beast. 2006 was the 35th anniversary of the race that celebrates this contest of muscle vs. machine, and it is worth an early rise to watch the head of the peloton rush past the whistle-blowing locomotive.

A ride up this narrow-gauge line that has been in continuous operation for over 120 years is most definitely worth the time, as is a drive over to Mesa Verde, just one of a host of amazing archeological sites in the vicinity. And for the minority of you readers who golf, there’s no shortage of courses to play.

Romantics that we are, though, we decide it’s time to trade four wheels for four feet, and get a feel for Colorado life back a few generations. The dude ranch is almost a cliché, yet it has endured because it is a singular experience in an increasingly homogenized world. Sleeping in a sixty year old—but thoroughly updated—log cabin, eating wonderfully prepared, hearty meals after a long, dusty day on the trail, taking a hayride with newfound friends, all contribute to a thick n’ rich experience. We had a blast burning marshmallows and butchering songs—call it cowboy karaoke—around the campfire, reciting bad poetry, swapping tall tails, and telling ghost stories.

Wilderness Trails opened in 1950, and for the past 37 years has been run by the Roberts family, who undertake to turn cityfolk like myself into competent riders. An excellent group of wranglers managed our varying riding abilities, allowing us access to the spectacular local scenery, and it was quite fascinating to watch the regrowth in areas devastated by fire just a few years ago. But in some ways, the highlight was quiet time: morning walks, or lounging about the pool, watching the swarms of hummingbirds and local wildlife that included foxes, coyotes (heard but never seen), deer and elk.

Soon enough it was time to return to what some call civilization, but not before one last stop for provisions. Every type of hand-made, carb-loading treat you can think of is available at Bread, and this Durango staple offers every conceivable type of baked good, made with a combination of first-class ingredients and careful prep to insure some of the best sandwiches and cookies you’ve ever tasted. Gluttoned-out, we rolled out to our ride.

Luckily we had first-class tickets aboard Mercedes newest locomotive, the S550. This range-topper impressed with massive room for four in the most comfortable seats any of us had ever experienced in a vehicle. All reclined and offered such sybaritic delights as heating and cooling, while the front thrones had adjustments too numerous to list and the best massage feature I’ve yet tried in a car. Rear seat occupants didn’t feel shortchanged, though, what with the dual sunroofs offering unimpeded views of the amazing vistas that accompanied the drive down and back on state Highway 285 and over Wolf Creek Pass. We were careful, and arrived back in Denver unscathed; but watch out for the modern equivalent of banditos in the form of ferocious, laser-armed highwaymen with badges, and no sense of humor.

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