and also Total Immersion Therapy.
We belatedly figured dinner in the repo to be cooler than on the porch despite evenings’ [blast furnace] breezes, but still not cool enough as the house continued hot well into the night despite so Tuesday I broke down and closed out the studio. It was nonetheless a major all day effort Wednesday to pack and load ahead of the massive storm which blew through at sunset,
passing us by but leaving the house too warm for comfortably sleeping.
Two days to Colorado began before six Thursday with a last walk, breakfast
and loading until after eight…nothing to be found in the Gerlach P.O. box,
dust all day across Nevada
with an obligatory pause for the delights of Austin and, soon after, Bob Scott for lunch.
Spates of rain failed to dissuade the near-constant dust until
well into Utah
when it finally abated after a particularly windy stop in Salina for gas [“You’re in the desert” the pimply c-store attendant quipped as dirt blew past the pumps; “SALINA’s the desert, dude?” I thought] and over the pass beyond to Temple Mount to let dogs run free
…then Green River, distanced dining at the Tamarisk and sheltering in the First Choice Inn
wherein the Salt Lake TV seemed stupid so tried to sleep, results again limited.
Friday up at six, away at seven, trying First Choice’s choice complimentary breakfasts
[of interest only to others, who got none] on the way Rabbit Valley so the others could have
something more appropriate and run a little. We then entered the Recreation State in earnest
via Fruita to secure takeout from Camilla’s, the people safe and cautious but not hysterical.
L drove to the Texaco in Montrose where we’ve stopped for the last thirty years and was rudely informed by the new manage-bitch that now all restrooms are to be locked against suspicious mask-wearing non-patriotic scum. To gain entry you ask for a key attached to a slimy baton passed on from the previous pee-er. OK……and enjoy a Great Pandemic, patriots!
We continued to Blue Mesa Reservoir, usual stop, the water unusually low but more people out on it than ever before, beautiful day…an hour later we were at the Safeway in Salida, one of
those towns that puts hospitality before stupidity and as a result masks do not constitute a Political Statement; everybody wearing them, being prudent, same in Westcliffe [near the puppies’ origin] where we checked the market as an alternative to Pueblo. We finished off Camilla’s omelette driving down 69 to Gardner’s still-in-a-trailer Post Office and then up the dusty hill to Libre, driest meadow in half a century. Tired but relieved we unloaded only the foods and what it would take to make it through one quiet [no birds, no frogs!] night…
In the morning, warm, dry…
Dry, warm, 8300′ waiting on the rainy season.