Marathon and Camp Peña Colorado

When I hear the word Marathon, I think of exhausted individuals who push past their endurance limit while running 26 long miles. My friends think of Florida. However, when Captain Albion E. Shepard saw this flat desert valley surrounded by distant mountains, he thought of the plains of Marathon, Greece, where he previously traveled as a ship captain. And because he was a surveyor for the railroad, local landowner, and postmaster, the responsibility for naming this tiny burg was assigned to him, resulting in the appellation of Marathon.

Morning in Marathon

Today Michael wakes in his vacation rental in the desert railroad town of Marathon at his usual time—6 am. It’s dark outside. I snuggle back under the covers until 8 am, when the smell of coffee lures me forward; willingly, I drag myself into the kitchen. After a suitable amount of time and at least one cup of coffee, Michael is back in the kitchen whipping up his breakfast special—ham or bacon, egg, and cheese tacos with salsa. Nobody does it better!

Sitting here devouring our small feast, I recommend that he volunteer to teach others—including many restaurants—how to scramble eggs. I get the look. But really, anyone who tastes Michael’s eggs agrees with my assessment. Because nothing is on our agenda for today, but following our nose, we dawdle.

Michael wanders outside to our temporary, quirky backyard to listen to an approaching train. I spend time entertaining myself with Wordle and picking up the house, trying to make it look like it did when we first walked in the door late yesterday. When finally I venture outside to join Michael, I find my better half napping in the morning sun. I make a quick retreat into the house and grab my Nook.

Marathon in 2022

As the cool morning hours wane, we are back in the car, exploring the streets of Marathon. The home we rent is south of the railroad tracks, and based on some of the buildings we see on the north side of the tracks vs. the south, they are two different worlds. Both sides are quirky and worn, with some new and some unconventional structures rising from both sides. Not only is the north side the business side, with shops that once did not exist, but it also boasts a beautifully restored mansion and the grand old lady—the Gage Hotel.

In Search of Camp Peña

Finally, we nose our car west, pointing it toward where we think the ghost of Fort Pena lies. Guessing wrong, we make a U-turn and check out a map. As we make our way south, we pass our rental, the Blas Payne House, wandering down Avenue D until it turns into Pena Park Road.

Within miles, the terrain changes from flat to tortured earth erupting from the desert floor with frosted caps of stone on the low-slung mounds. I wonder what these large formations are called—hills, mountains, or something else. I need a geologist by my side.

Post Park in Marathon

I am shocked when the world suddenly turns from a brown and gold haze to an oasis of green trees and cooling water. No wonder the army of so long ago made their camp here—this place is beautiful and unexpected. However, today, not even a whisper remains of the original army fortification.

Reading about Camp Peña Colorado (Michael and I even had the name wrong!), I am not surprised to learn that this area was also the home to nomadic people for thousands of years. With its year-round spring providing freshwater, I can’t help but wonder why the town of Marathon did not take root here, rather than in the middle of the dry desert.

After reading an abbreviated history of the area on stone monuments at the foot of the parking lot, and a few detailed storyboards, we make our way to the beckoning pond. Choosing one of many picnic tables, we sit and linger and absorb our surroundings. I wish for a lawn chair and a book or a picnic and a good bottle of wine. But I don’t want to spoil tonight’s planned dinner at the upscale 12 Gage Restaurant in Marathon. I feel that I was halfway wise to leave those things behind.

So, instead of sitting and sipping and munching or reading, we watch the story of the natural world unfold around us. A lone javelina that looks like a wild boar but isn’t, catches Michael’s attention. The single new world pig feasts along the water’s edge at the base of the rocky mound on the other side of the pond. A flock of various species of ducks honk and peck and beg for food far off to our right. Apparently, they hope the one other couple at the park has something edible in their pockets; based on the feathered convention surrounding them, it almost looks like they do.