|
On
the road again. Planes, automobiles,
ships, and motor home this time (vs. the movie, Planes, Trains, and Automobiles; actually, there will be a train
ride, in Alaska
– and a bicycle ride and a float trip, so this will be a TranspoExpo! sort of
trip). It’s been almost two months
since we got back from our Texas
trip. The road beckons.
Trip’s
primary peg points are: bluegrass and family in Colorado,
nephew’s graduation and Mother’s birthday in Oklahoma,
grandson’s graduation in Michigan,
and an Alaskan cruise. We’re driving
to MI via CO and OK, then flying from Chicago
to Seattle
for the cruise. Then, once back in MI, we’ll “wonder” our way home, as in, “I
wonder where we should go next.”
About
a week before we were to leave, all wrapped up in preparation, Susie says,
“Maybe we should just fly.” That was
the first plan, but it just seemed good to go via Tuzigoot (the motor home)
for convenience, a more relaxed pace, seeing the country, and to make it
easier to pack for both springtime in the lower 48 and Alaska at the same time. Sure hope it turns out that way.
In
a waiting room a week before we left, I happened to see an article in 2004
National Geographic Travel magazine written by a guy in midst of a Fairbanks to Miami
driving trip. He said one of the major
Wow moments on his trip was Devil’s Tower in NE Wyoming. If that landmark is not familiar to you,
think Close Encounters of the Third
Kind. So, that seems like a
reasonable objective for our return trip.
For us, this is what amounts to planning. Another special moment was the transition
from Rocky Mtns.
to the Great Plains. Author was struck by great expanses of the
plains, as we are, too, so he seemed like a kindred spirit worth emulating.
|
|
May
11. We spend the morning packing and
get away just before noon. After lunch
at The Spic and Span café in Las Vegas (something
of a tradition for us, but now they’re calling it Charlie’s) we’re soon
enjoying the vastness of the grasslands in NE NM
– awesome. We make it over Raton Pass
and decide to stay the night in Trinidad. (Susie first lived in NM in Raton, moving here
from Indiana. I ask her what it was like coming over Raton Pass in a covered wagon. I’ll leave space here for her response, if
she doesn’t delete this comment: He
is such a smart aleck—someday he’ll be old and have fond memories—one thing I
know for sure is that the pass was not four lane and it took a lot longer to
drive it back in “02”—and our relatives in Indiana thought we were going to a
foreign country when we came to New Mexico in 1948—but what else is new? A lot of people forget that New Mexico is in the good ole’ USA.
I
was asked for a picture of Tuzigoot, so here she is with her faithful
companion PT at Raton
Pass.
|
|
|
|
Next
morning it’s the traditional stop at Wal-Mart (Trinidad) to get things we forgot
or need, followed by the traditional (because you can count on them for RV
parking space) Cracker Barrel stop, this time in Colorado Springs, with
Pike’s Peak overlooking. This whole
drive features the snow-covered front range of the Rockies, looking like a
landscape painting on our left as we work our way north.
Because
I-25 for years has been a mess through Denver,
and I forgot to ask son, Jeff, what the current state of affairs is, I decide
to take the toll-road bypass en route to Greeley, site of the bluegrass
festival. Expensive choice: with 4
axles (see above picture) it costs $24 to get here from there. Could have saved $8 by disconnecting the PT
and letting Susie drive it! What have
they got against towed vehicles? But,
who knows what grief it would have cost to drive through Denver.
|
|
The
Greeley Bluegrass Roundup takes place at the Island Grove
Regional Park,
where they have RV facilities. Bob and
his other brother, Bob, escort us around in their golf cart and we pick a
convenient site near the stage and food vendors. Both nights we easily hear jammin’ among
nearby campers. Also, by RV park
tradition, we can easily hear trains passing through town.
Highlight
of the first day, for me, even though it wasn’t bluegrass, was Gary McMahan,
a cowboy singer, songwriter, poet, humorist.
The gist of one poem was: What
I love best is beautiful woman and a good horse …. So, when I die, tan my
hide and make it into a saddle … give it to young cowgirl with a fine horse,
so my final rest will be between the two things that I love the best.
Memorable
joke: An old cowboy sits at a bar, staring at a bowl of chili. Just sits there, staring. Young buckaroo comes in, sits on a stool
next to him, notices that he’s not eating, and asks him, “If you’re not going
to eat that bowl of chili, do you mind if I do? I’m hungry.” Old cowboy nods OK, so young buckaroo digs
in. Gets near the bottom of the bowl
and sees a dead mouse in the bowl. He
gags, retches, and barfs into the bowl.
Old cowboy finally speaks up, “Yup, that’s about as far as I got,
too.”
Back
to poetry, he recites one by another author concerning a cowboy sent to town
to buy a bra for his wife. All sorts
of embarrassment ensues picking out style – cross your heart, 24 hour? –
until he’s asked the size. Proudly, he
knows, it’s 6 7/8. “I measured it last
night with my hat – perfect fit.”
This
concludes the cultural part of our program.
There was also much fine bluegrass, mostly by CO and WY bands.
|
|
Saturday
morning we take a drive of about 40 miles to an RV dealer near Longmont who carries Tiffin motor homes about which I’ve heard
good things. They have a nice used
2004 model that we’ll think about, but we’re not yet convinced about
trading. We shall see. Otherwise it’s a nice country drive through
farm and ranch land, and pleasant towns, looking all fresh in the bright new
leaves of spring. This is sort of the
country of my youth. My Dad got a PhD
in history from the U. of Colorado in nearby Boulder and we spent several summers here
and one full year, when I was in first grade.
A memory from that time, one of those childhood memories that sticks
with you, a never-healing scar that warps your life: I couldn’t pronounce
animals, said aminals, and they teased me about it!
|
|
Some
of you may not know what a bluegrass festival looks like, so here’s a
picture. At some of the larger
festivals, back east, with a professional crowd in attendance, the placement of
lawn chairs requires a great deal of “strategery.” Something like an Oklahoma land rush. Get out early and plant your chairs at a
prime location, then just wander in and out as you like. As I was placing ours at about 7:30 am, for
Sat. noon show, one of the vendors made fun of me – Here they come with their
lawn chairs. He just doesn’t
understand. Here the crowd comfortably
places itself with plenty of elbow room.
At the big shows it’s armrest to armrest.
|
|