The front yard is now Durango , at 6,512 feet, where the price of diesel has
jacked up to $2.03/gallon.
Americana Sign Watch:
Blondie's Pub and Grub
Serious Texas Bar-B-Q
Liquor World
Every state has at least one city called Monticello
Every state also has at least one city called Springfield
Another Americana observation: any self-respecting diner has to have big
checkered tablecloths, like it’s Purina People Chow.
At the pancake hut at the last campground, the Germans made themselves
understood by pointing and saying, “one times *that*, and four times *that*” --
pointing and grunting GOOD...gimme some-a THAT.
The pancake hut was located next to an unused playground. Who was the brainiac
that put up a metal slide in full sun when the days get to be 100 degrees? They
could have sauteed the pancakes right on the slide.
Leaving Moab, we passed the Hole In The Rock -- impossible to miss with the
big-assed lettering announcing its existence. It was created by a group of
Mormon settlers who came to the abyss of Glen Canyon and dynamited their way
through a wall of rock, lowered their wagons and cattle by ropes until they
reached the bottom of the canyon, only to repeat the whole process in reverse on
the other side.
And then, later on down the road, we came to another actual (natural) hole in
the rock, without any sign or fanfare at all.
Part of the trip to Durango involved the spookily-named Route 666, which was so
lumpy we decided it must be The Road of the Damned – once the land on the side
of the road started to turn into cultivated plots, it looked like all they were
able to grow were crops of dirt. Lots of death-wish motorcyclists who barely
made it to plaid before getting squished like a bug by oncoming traffic, and
just-like-home black eyed susans growing wild on the the roadsides.
Once in Colorado , it was obvious that God had exhausted several cans of
Reddi-Wip into the sky, and you couldn’t live here at all if you had a fear of
widths.
At the end of the entrance to the park is a narrow gauge train track that goes
from Durango to Silverton and I got some pictures as the train came hooting
through. I missed it earlier (it's not a very long train) but I was outside the
second time I heard it approach, watching ("helping") Wes wash the truck and the
RV.
The guy camped two sites away from us came up to berate me for holding the hose
and not squirting Wes with it. He turned out to be Bill from Phoenix (formerly
from Chicago), a retired fireman, with a paunch, a Glen Canyon baseball hat, and
a glass of whiskey in his hand. He was in Colorado on his annual three month
escape from the 106 degree heat of Phoenix, and had a cruise planned for
Alaska's Inside Passage, which he bought at a charity auction for a $3000 bid.
Grilled 'dogs and 'mallows to make s'mores as the sun went down -- as you can
see from the attached photo, life doesn't get better than wearing your bathing
suit all day, purple sparkle nail polish, and s'mores :)