Paonia
We rolled into Paonia from the north and yet again, it was hot as balls. After winding our way off Highway 133, the Paonia River Park was one of the first places we hit, less out of planning but rather to cool off with a dip in the North Fork Gunnison River. What was thought to be just a quick dip turned into an unexpected delight when we saw this humble little park wasn’t just a spot to cool off, it was also an open-air art gallery featuring metal sculptures.
Scattered along railings and tucked beside pathways were steel creatures: ants marching in formation, cranes caught mid-stride, beavers frozen mid-chew. Piece after piece, each teeming with tiny, intricate metal detail and hidden behind or beneath the railings to boot, quietly existing whether seen or not. And just when you thought you’d seen it all, you’d take another step and spot the next. The sheer quantity of quality work. I knew this wasn't just some random person fabricating these, there was no way. I looked up the genius behind the welding torch and found they were made by local blacksmith, Ira Houseweart. A two-time winner of the History Channel’s Forged in Fire, a master metalworker who bridges old-world forging with modern design. His functional pieces, railings, gates, and custom metalwork, integrated with expression, all cut from the same cloth of integrity and care. My energy shifted to a higher frequency knowing that there are people like Ira are out here doing their thing.
But the magic of Paonia isn’t limited to the park. We found Paonia to be filled with creative energy. Murals peeked out from alleyways. Tiny galleries hide behind garden fences. There’s art tucked into corners you’d never think to look. From bakeries to bulletin boards in an organic grocery store, where i spotted a handwritten ad for a truck for sale. You just don't see that type of thing anymore.
Paonia isn’t just an artist’s dream, it’s also a farmer’s playground. The North Fork Valley’s soil is dark, rich and nutrient-rich. The land here in notorious for its peaches, apples, cherries, plums. There are also dozens of small-scale farms where growers take their crops and methods to the edge of imagination and down the rabbit hole of “what if”.
The town’s roots go deep. Founded in 1881 by Civil War veteran Samuel Wade, Paonia got its name as a spin on “peony,” the flower he grew here. What started as a mining and agriculture town has evolved into a sanctuary for artists, off-grid dreamers, and anyone looking for a slower, richer way to live, perhaps even a slice of how the world could be.
After exploring the town, we rolled back onto Hwy 133 and not long after stumbled into Big B’s Delicious Orchards. A cider house/campground/place to drink a cold cider and let your brain go slack in the sun. The whole backyard is lined with wood chips, a small stage set patiently awaiting local musicians. Huge adult-sized rope swings hang from beams with a sign reading something along the lines of “use at your own risk”. Giant Jenga. Giant Legos.
