We pulled off I‑70 just west of Georgetown, nudged past the viewing station sign, and climbed a few steps onto a raised wooden platform overlooking the rugged north-facing cliffs. we clicked the coin-operated scope to life--suddenly, the rocky slopes came alive. There, about 800feet up, stood a herd of majestic Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep, their curved horns shining in the late-morning.
It wasn't a silent, Edenic scene--the hum of semis on I‑70 rolled through--but it somehow added to the rhythm of life here.
If you come in late fall or early winter, you may even catch the dramatic rutting season, when rams butt heads and lip-curl in ritual combat. In November, the town hosts a whole festival around it, with educational talks, kids' crafts, and hot cider served at the shelter . read more