In May 2008 my husband and I went to stay with a dear friend in Colorado who was a fabulous host and guide to the Denver region. Unfortunately whilst we were out having a great time exploring, poor Kris had to go to work but at the end of our visit he managed to get the day off and so we asked him where he most wanted to go. Pawnee Buttes was his choice for a day out.

Three go out on a adventure

We loaded up the rental car and headed out of the city in a northerly direction. I suppose I should have asked more questions before we went like "How far is this place?" and "What on earth are we going to look at?" but I didn't. Perhaps it was a fear of admitting that I couldn't remember from my school geography what a butte was that stopped me interrogating a bit more. He'd not let us down with his other hot tips for tourism so we trusted him and just went along.

We drove for two or three hours and started to wonder just how bleak and isolated this place could be. Then finally we started to see signs for the Pawnee Grasslands National park and we turned off the paved roads and on to dirt tracks. It felt like we drove forever, passing through bleak barren landscapes, abandoned towns and Minuteman missile silos. This was a real post-armageddon landscape.

I'm not sure how long we drove along these dusty roads - it probably wasn't as long as it felt because I was getting increasingly terrified of what the car rental firm would say when I took the car back, covered in dust and clearly driven 'off road'. I knew from a previous rental experience that unpaved roads are forbidden on most rental contracts and I was getting a bit paranoid. The only thing that took my mind off the damage I was probably doing the car, was the shock of all the long, thick, black and probably poisonous snakes sunning themselves on the roads. I HATE snakes with a passion.

There at last

Eventually we arrived at the parking space for the Pawnee Buttes at about 2pm. Kris had put a cooler box of water bottles in the back of the car but we hadn't eaten since breakfast and I was starting to get peckish. We grabbed the water and headed off down a sandy track, not quite sure what we were heading towards.

About 10 minutes later it became clear what the fuss was all about. Rising up from the flat sandy plane were two enormous steep sided lumps of rock, sitting like two big broad cruise-liners in the middle of masses of nothingness. I'd vaguely recalled a school geography lesson on Mesas and Buttes when I was 13 but I couldn't for the life of me remember what they were. These big blocky rocks were the Buttes that Kris had dragged us across Colorado to come and visit. The photo that ciao have added for this attraction is actually pretty good although when we visited, the grass was all dead and the whole place was very brown.

It took us about two hours to walk to the base of the two buttes and back again. We stopped to watch birds - Kris is a fanatic - and admire the views. We watched the massive line of wind turbines spinning on a ridge to the side of the buttes and reflected that our local village and its 'stop the windmills' campaign should come over to Colorado and see just how gorgeous these mighty constructions could look. I checked everywhere I put my feet out of sheer terror that I'd come across more of those sunbathing snakes.

When I got back home and read the guidebook I was glad I hadn't read it before we set off because it warned to wear good boots to protect against rattle snakes. By the time we got back to the vehicle we'd drunk all our water, got ourselves stupidly sun and wind-burned and were exhausted and really hungry and facing another hour or so before we would hit civilisation and get something to eat. I had some great photos though - including (of course) my husband bent over showing his 'nice butt' next to the 'nice buttes'. Well, it would have seemed wrong to go all that way without a cheap double-entendre.

What you need to know

The things you need to know about the Pawnee Buttes are the following: it's further from Denver than you think (over 200 km); it's really is in the middle of nowhere (actually turn right at nowhere and keep going for an hour) and there's nothing anywhere nearby. The only 'facilities' are two chemical toilets which remarkably, don't smell too bad. There's nowhere to get anything to eat or drink within an hour's drive and the site is exceptionally exposed. The rattlers scare me silly.

But most importantly, it's an absolutely stunning location and the buttes really are beauties. In spite of all the moaning, I loved it.

As for the car, we had to clean it really well before we took it back - the dust got absolutely everywhere.