Painters on Wheels: Pagosa Springs, Colorado

Along the Piedra River

Suddenly, fifty feet ahead of us, a bulky shape rocketed out of the brush.  It dashed across the road, up the hill, and vanished into the scrub oak.  Although the moment was fleeting, my brain interpreted what I'd just seen as “bear.”  Faster than a man could run, it had stocky but powerful legs.  A blur of brown and black.

Just moments before, we'd been sitting in the shade with our dog, Raku, checking our e-mail in one of the few places we could get cell service, not a hundred feet from that spot.  Throughout our week, hiking and sketching in Pagosa Springs, we'd heard the occasional odd crash in the woods, and we sometimes wondered if there were bears near by.

When we first discovered southwestern Colorado many years ago, we immediately fell in love with the area.  The San Juan Mountains, the south end of the Rockies, seem more intimate than the vastness of the mountains further north.  Bordered by communities such as Durango, Cortez, Telluride, Ouray and Creede, you can drive a loop around it in a just a day.  Its highest peak is the 14,321-foot Uncompahgre Peak, but many smaller peaks with attendant valleys create little pockets of beauty worth exploring.  Old mining towns, stands of blue spruce and aspen, clear streams running over cobbles—everything you might expect of Colorado.

We took our Pleasureway camper van to Pagosa Springs, on the southeast side of the mountains, to escape the heat in New Mexico.  At home, it had been hitting 90 or above most days.  We also went for some R&R, as we've been rather busy of late.  We reserved a spot at a campground bordering the San Juan National Forest with plenty of access to hiking trails.  We vowed to keep to ourselves because of the pandemic, and the van is good for that.  It allows us to cook and eat, take bathroom breaks, as well as sleep and relax without having to interact with others.

Well, we couldn't escape the heat.  Even at 8000 feet, which was the elevation at the campground, afternoon temperatures were in the high 80s, and it even hit 90 one day.  Nights, thankfully, cooled down quickly, with lows in the high 40s.  (Folks from back east have a hard time believing that we get such dramatic temperature swings.)  Also, we had smoke from both the California and Colorado wildfires.  Some days were smokier than others.  Most times, a yellowish haze colored the sun; on the worst day, even the nearest mountains were just featureless, blue cutouts against an ochre sky.  Although we couldn't really smell the smoke, it certainly affected what I saw when out sketching.

I enjoyed a perfect balance of hiking and sketching on this trip.  Each day, we hiked early to avoid others; then we found a private, shady spot for lunch and sketching.  Afternoons, we usually found some remote forest road to stretch our legs on.  I photographed over a half-gigabyte's worth of images; I made enough gouache sketches to satisfy me.

On our trips with the van—we've named her “Wilma”—I take a special sketchbook.  I have my “Pandemic Sketchbooks” for sketches done at home, but my “Travels with Wilma” one is just for sketches while on the road.  Whereas my home sketches tend to be studies with the possibility of becoming larger, studio paintings, the Wilma sketches are more like postcards.  They are meant to be reminders of the trip and nothing more.  They certainly aren't “art.”  I've included a few of the presentable ones here, along with some photos.

We never saw another bear, but we had other encounters.  One morning, as we drove a forest road up the hill, we had to stop for a hawk that was in the middle of the road, struggling to carry off a grouse it had killed but was too heavy.  As we hiked along a fork of the San Juan River, I heard the distinctive call of an osprey, and then I spotted three of them high overhead.  At dawn, a flock of Canada geese, sounding everything like a traffic snarl of honking city taxis, landed in a nearby pond.  Woodpeckers, flickers, dragonflies—I could go on.  For a plein air painter, being able to spend a week in the middle of it all is a treat.  I'm beginning to think a camper van is an essential piece of equipment for me.

If you're a plein air painter with an RV or are thinking of one, consider joining my Facebook group, Painters on Wheels.

Raku spent most of her time watching wildlife while I sketched.

What 8000 feet does to a bag of chips.

A crazy mountain mining road in Creede.  We didn't go far up it.

Pond and trees.

Two gouache sketches in "Travels with Wilma."
You can get an idea of my setup.

Classic Colorado view.

Raku doing her morning yoga.

You can see how I lay out my brushes.

Our 19-foot Pleasureway van is in front.

Creede 5x8 gouache

Aspens 5x8 gouache

Spruce 5x8 gouache

Mountain View 5x8 gouache

Blue Spruce 8x5 gouache

Workshop Report: Durango, Colorado

Two Aspens Study 6x8 Oil by Michael Chesley Johnson

Few places in the world are more beautiful than Colorado in the fall.  The mountains,  quilted with pink, blue and gold, buoy up the heart.  Hike up into some mountain meadow, and the splendor of aspens will wipe away the cares of the world.

Animas River, Durango, Colorado

This past weekend, I had the honor of teaching a private workshop for a group of plein air artists located in Durango.  This historic town hugs the Animas River between two mountain ranges, the San Juan and the La Plata.  From my host’s house and our meeting place, I enjoyed a stunning vista.  On our first morning, thick clouds surrounded the peaks, but as dawn broke, orange and pink seeped into the grey, overpowering it and drenching the world with autumn light.

Looking for something to paint - not so hard!

After a short morning lecture, we headed up to the Silverpick Lodge, located at 8900 feet, to paint the aspens.  A rather chill wind was blowing, but we found a sheltered spot for my first demonstration, which was in pastel.  After lunch, the wind began to blow harder, but I found a little road that led to a spot on the lee side of a hill where it was comfortably sunny and warm.  I set up at the edge of a meadow, in a gathering of aspens that was like a golden chapel.

Silverpick 9x12 Oil by Michael Chesley Johnson
Available

Location shot for "Silverpick"

The next day, because the weather was forecast to be cooler, we decided to start at a lower elevation (7000 feet or so), along Lightner Creek.  Here we had a broad view of a meadow with views of Barnroof Point.  We’d gotten an early start, so the sun was rising over the hill and playing games with the light on the aspens.  It was tough painting, because the effect was so brief. Later, we headed up hill to the Hesperus Ski Area for lunch at the Kennebec Cafe.  From there, we had beautiful views of clusters of yellow and orange cottonwoods and aspens.

Aspen  Grove Study 12x9 Pastel by Michael Chesley Johnson
Available

The happy group, minus one

My students were experienced outdoor painters, and it was a treat to work with them.  They were diverse:  a retired physical therapist, a fiddler/potter, an allergist, a geologist...I could go on.  But gathering them together was the common thread of painting in the beautiful outdoors.   I felt privileged to be in their company in such a beautiful part of the world.

I think private workshops are the way to go.  This group made me feel like a guest, and, I am grateful for their hospitality.

If your group would like to me teach a private workshop, let’s talk!