I wonder if anywhere else in this nation rich with natural treasures, Fourth of July celebrants are viewing fireworks displays while wearing their winter coats.
Two years ago in a car packed with folding chairs, lemonade and popcorn, we headed to Como. When we got out of the car, we were grateful we’d thought to throw in jackets. It was cool and we needed them. As the evening progressed gloves would have felt good, too.
The next year we went prepared. In addition to the chairs, drinks and snacks, winter coats, gloves and blankets were loaded. The near hour drive with little traffic was pleasant. Enjoying the surroundings we speculated on the chances for rain. Upon arriving, we pulled into our favorite viewing area — a rancher’s open field across the highway from the tiny town of Como. We took our place in long lines next to other trucks and SUVs in rows five deep.
Como, 9 miles northeast of Fairplay off of Highway 285, is an inhabited ghost town. Said to be named by prospectors and miners from Como, Italy, it was founded during the Pikes Peak Gold Rush in 1859. In 1879, it became the location of a roundhouse for the Denver South Park and Pacific Railroad. In its heyday, Como thrived with numerous homes, saloons and gambling houses and two newspapers.
In 1890, a major tunnel served by the railroad collapsed. The town of Como’s main industry was lost. Today, fewer than 300 people live there, but thanks to the volunteer efforts of local firefighters and townspeople, the popular Fourth of July fireworks continue.
On last year’s trip to view Como’s fireworks, we didn’t set up our chairs. We did not unpack. We never even stepped outside! When a gust of wind so fierce it stung our eyes blasted through a rolled down window, we donned fur-trimmed coats and fleece gloves and opted to stay put. In 47-degree temperatures and as 60 mile per hour winds rocked the Jeep, we contemplated our surroundings. In South Park’s vast expanse of openness one can see for miles in all directions. The 1,000-square-mile valley is so widely sweeping it is almost unfathomable.
Seated where we were, in what felt like its center, it was as if we could see it all — eternally open grasslands in a boundless basin bordered in the far, far distance by mountain ranges. Equally captivating was the immense sky where changing cloud formations raced above us on the high winds. An ominous coal-black cloud blanketed the area directly above us.
As the night’s darkness descended, we could see occasional lightning strikes at our backs and hear rumbling thunder in the distance, but only a few drops of rain spattered the windshield.
Just before 9:30 p.m., the spectacular show began with a profusion of color illuminating the skies. For nearly 45 minutes, various formations of gold, white, red, blue, green, pink and purple erupted above us. The anticipated boom from the explosions bounced off the surrounding mountains with each new display. Out of the corner of my eye 9 miles away I could see the town of Fairplay’s fireworks. And in the opposite direction, another, even smaller and more remote display was visible. In front of us, the grand show continued.
The volunteer efforts and spirit of the Jefferson-Como Fire Protection District and the Como Civic Association to put on such a fantastic fireworks display for such a small community are to be celebrated. They deserve rounds of rousing applause, a standing ovation and buckets overflowing with donations. But the showstopper for me is the magnificent valley — the immense open area, the backdrop of jutting mountains momentarily illuminated over and over again by the bright explosions, and the uniquely Colorado experience of celebrating America’s Fourth of July birthday while wearing a winter coat.
Jane DeJonghe of Bailey (janedejonghe@yahoo.com) writes magazine and newspaper articles focusing on nature from a cabin in Colorado’s Rocky Mountains.
