Thursday it was round the ponds a bit after six, sixty degrees and rising,

burros on the road

to town for a last trip to the post office and final sighting of the Holiday Rambler waiting to be towed into its new life.  We headed south into not-so-bad glare to 50 east,

air clear as ever seen in summer with

construction here

and there while

in Austin the Trump signs were missing  from the “Serbian Breakfast” International Cafe [not

shown but has he finally done something to offend even THEM?], lunch at Bob Scott Summit

and Ely mid-afternoon.

Sacramento Pass, the Border, then Utah;

Once on the Western Desert things began to get hazy, with huge hot winds pushing us and what proved to be the smoke from many fires east in headache-inducing pollution

the entire way to Green River, not quite triple digits but sad

for a dog alone after the sun vanished into the murk, eleven hours from the Wall Spring gate. We had welcome if overpriced dinners with local wine followed by a welcome if overpriced motel whose unaccustomed TV kept us up past midnight with “Endeavour”.

Intermittent sleeps ensued until 6:30, then into the sun to the Trail Through Time, a stop

Lefty always anticipated…this time no one did but Aggie was happy to get out before

Fruita, where one had to navigate not one but two gratuitously confusing roundabouts to get into [and out of] that bicycle-themed Recreation State town for quite good breakfasts

although L. spent most of her time on the phone tracking news of Fire in the Huerfano, finding La Veta to be under “pre-evacuation” and others potentially in peril.  We pushed on to Delta,

over Monarch against tides of incoming traffic to Salida for massive grocery shopping, then south into the Fire Zone, the Spring Creek fire taking advantage of perfect conditions. For fire;

home to the mountains to mountains of mouseshit, exhausting if only partial unpacking

and shrimp salad

with Bryan’s much-appreciated belated Christmas Veuve Clicquot on the porch as Aggie tentatively explored the idea of Other Dogs, a very difficult concept for her, even Kiku.

First morning seemed clearer as we cleaned and worked unto collapse until, just in time for lunch, visitors showed up, voluble and entertaining and not wanting to be bothers but…lunch became belated.

The fire woke by day’s end,

made for nice sunsets.

Sunday, more of the same; less smoke in the morning, a tentative walk in the local woods, still acclimating, still unpacking, collapsing…another unanticipated lunchtime visit [this one at least

game to partake, so we lunched less late] and then a hospitable late afternoon dinner gathering together much of Libre plus some pre-evacuation Nashvillians from La Veta who made music

late into the evening while we went home to the very bereft-when-we-left grateful lonely dog.

The fire, great for sunsets but uncontrolled and romping madly through the beetle-killed forests, remains most worrisome.

And larger by the day.

Hey.