The Eisenhower Tunnel was always a somewhat mystical and for lack of better description magical place. It just didn't seem quite real. When I was little I loved tunnels in the mountains. I loved everything about them. They were dark, mysterious, and I wasn't quite sure how they came about.

When ever we would drive through a tunnel my dad would honk the horn so we could hear the echo. It was a lot of fun. When I was older we tried to hold our breath through the tunnels. This was especially challenging in the Eisenhower Tunnel as it is over a mile long. I think I did a couple times though.

Part of the mystique I think, is it seemed to come out of nowhere. After driving past Georgetown in the Loveland valley you would climb and climb and climb until all of sudden there it was. Those crazy air vents sticking out and the tunnel to who knows where was right in front of you. I think it was a little terrifying and cool because you couldn't see the other side. Every time you drove though it was an adventure and the possibility of ending up somewhere else was always there.