for some reason getting out of Libre was not only exhausting but took til near eleven….

but away we got, up 69 for [first] gas in Westcliffe,

down to Cotopaxi,* the Arkansas, and 50

as far as Salida, around which we detoured to 24, and somewhere after Buena Vista

pulled over at “Numbers” for a rudimentary lunch before Leadville’s sprawl, immediately

north of which 24 turned off suddenly and subtly for Tennessee Pass [10,424′] from whence it

was all downhill past abandoned [available?] Gilman to Minturn and the turn onto 70 for

another 155 downhill miles to Snook’s Bottom [4500′] on the Colorado to try dogs on leashes

after six month’s wilderness study** prior to heading into Fruita for, in my case, pollo chipotle

while Linda was served a devastating margarita to accompany her chile relleno.

The second morning we were at the Trail Through Time in early light, two miles later it was Utah

which has its own rest stop idiosyncracies

then west, west…

west

across the Beehive State to Salina,

where following Wm. Burroughs’ advice we did not eat at Mom’s [did once, won’t again], so

continued on to Delta and Ashton’s, mobbed with weekend celebrants of all ages, to take two

Billy Burgers w/fries all the way out to Sevier [pron. “severe”] Lake before consuming them.

The afternoon was spent, duh, in the car with one stop outside Eureka for dogs before

Linda checked us in to the former Gold Country Inn [now a Surestay and surely a bit more picky about dogs but we managed and they’re always good] anticipating the touted Mexican cuisine at the Urban Cowboy which was, for reasons mysterious, shut down so we ended up at the Owl, the only place in town serving food on a Saturday night, with the only waitress in town serving

it and certainly more interesting sociologically than gustatorily after which it was back to the motel for some truly execrable TV.  Next morning, daylight savings done, we were away early

to let dogs run free on the lower slopes of Lone Mountain before L. took over to drive all

the way, it turned out, to Fernley…which of course entailed going through Austin, Unfriendliest Town on the Loneliest Road  even if [or because] they subscribe to the idea that there’s this

invisible guy up in the sky who needs, as George Carlin so eloquently explained it, Money.

Austin done, and with a short stop at the remains of the Cold Spring Pony Express Station, we

shopped in Fernley as winds blew beyond belief and, once 447’s Scenic Byway ended [as can be seen – no longer scenic, right?], sampled last night’s soggy salads in the cab, tailwinds too

persistent to do otherwise, before a last hour on the road landed us at the Wall Spring gate

on the Smoke Creek Road [NOT Surprise Valley, google] a bit before 2:30.

*Linda actually had a colleague whose grandparents were part of the original Cotopaxi settlement.

**Not exactly successful leashings but once back in Benicia apparently they readjusted immediately.