Masked Meanderings, August, 2020
8.8.2020
We had not been out West for several years. You forget that the sky really does look bigger out there. You forget that that mountain driving is hard, strenuous work, but that the views are simply breathtaking, so that you don’t want to blink for fear of missing something wonderful, like a bit of light on a peak or a magenta sunset. You forget that the desert has its own distinct smell, dry and a bit sweet, like raisins. You forget how fast it cools down at night, regardless of how hot it may be during the day.
There was considerable controversy throughout the country as to whether it was a bad idea to go on a road trip during a pandemic. In general we felt quite safe. Most people were wearing masks and making some effort to distance. In a campground distance is easy; just stay in your own site. Masks were required in bathrooms. In general, additional sanitation protocols meant the bathrooms were cleaner than usual. In stores and at rest stops, we just avoided those who were not wearing masks. The variety of mask wear was staggering. Besides the common blue medical variety, there were bandannas, masks with little vents, and cloth masks in every conceivable color and pattern. One guy we saw at a store had a mask with a reproduction of Heath Ledger as the Joker. That one was kind of scary, with the iconic perpetual greasy smile. A creative shopper at a Wal-Mart had apparently forgotten his mask - he buttoned his shirt over the bridge of his nose. I believe I saw one man at a rest stop wearing a mask AND a MAGA cap, but my family did not see him and no one believes me. All the places where we went hiking were sufficiently unpopulated that we carried masks with us but did not have to use them.
Like so many of our trips, this one started with a problem. Abina turned up with serious-looking scrape wounds on her hip, side and legs from a skating fall. The wounds were quite painful and had to be dressed carefully before we could proceed. Eventually she was made mostly comfortable and we went forth, crossing Illinois and into Iowa. Our campground was part of the Coralville Dam Complex. The girls had brought sooo much food, it was hard to find room for it all, even with the new shelving (which is perfect and makes the trailer much more spacious). It was hot and everyone was tense and edgy. The girls had decided to sleep in the tent this trip, which gave them more space and privacy. Chia, of course, stayed with them.
8.9.2020
We decided to give Leni a chance to drive. She’s driven the truck before many times, but not with the trailer, which requires more careful attention and somewhat slower acceleration and braking, not to mention extreme care on tight turns. She rose to the challenge admirably and with little fuss.
8.10.2020
We awoke to discover a text message from B&T saying not to come to work! The office was closed due to a downtown situation involving protesters. There were reports of looting, shots fired at police. We continued to monitor the situation but it seemed to calm down fairly quickly.
In late morning, a thunderstorm with high winds blew up. Out on the prairie, with little to slow them down, those winds come fast. The girls & LCR tried to strike the tent quickly but it collapsed and they came into the trailer as it looked like a serious storm, possibly even a tornado nearby. When the storm passed, as quickly as it had come, we surveyed the damage. Several tent poles had snapped. The tent was trash. Well, we realized, it was almost 20 years old. There were downed branches in the campground and the awning of the rig next door had ripped off. We went to Wal-Mart so LCR could do a conference call in car while we shopped. There was exactly one tent left, white, in a teepee style. It was really cute and inexpensive but it remained to be seen how it would perform in the wind.
8.11.2020
One night was enough to tell that the new tent was not satisfactory. Even when staked down properly, it moved too
much in the wind, had a big footprint and the white fabric brought in too much
light too early in the morning. It would
be a good tent for kids in a sheltered back yard but not for serious
camping. We packed it up carefully and returned
it at the Fort Morgan CO Wal-Mart. They
courteously accepted it even though it had been used once. There were, however, NO tents available at that
Wal-Mart. We continued west. LCR was using GPS to find camping stores. We intended to look nearby, but somehow a navigational
error took us nearly to Denver. Cabela’s
had few tents, in the wrong sizes, and they were too expensive. But Sportsman’s Warehouse had just the
thing. This was a serious sportsman’s
store, heavy on weapons and camo gear. There
were very few tents left – there was only one that fit our requirements. We also bought some jerky. Some of us discovered we really like salmon
jerky. The clerk warned us that his wife
thinks it is too fishy. Different
strokes – personally I’m not sure “too fishy” is a thing!
That night it was difficult to find a campsite. This was true throughout the trip and is due to many, many more people camping than usual – probably due to the pandemic, since the thinking is that motels may not be as safe, and airline travel is restricted – and also due to the difficulty of getting good reception and hence making advance reservations in the mountains. We ended up near Golden, CO. I’ve always loved the area around Golden, with the narrow roads and mountains jutting up on steeply on both sides, not far from the road. It changed a lot since the last time we were there. There is a huge new casino complex, multiple large buildings with hotels. As a tourist it’s tempting to call it an eyesore, but we don’t live there; it may well be a boon to the local economy. LCR drives mountains like a pro after all these years but it’s still work. An original plan to stay here 2 nights was scrapped. The campsite we found was far up winding mountain roads and getting back and forth to the town below took quite a long time despite not being many miles. The campsite was really just one of a few hookups to one side of a convenience store called Base Camp at Golden Gate. The store had a sign on the door: “Walk slowly. Elevation 9,820 feet.”
The store had two counters/registers – one for the liquor store side and one for camping. The clerk had to zip back and forth depending on the customers, but she did it with good humor. The girls got a 6-pack of IPA, because how can you resist a store called Pickle Liquors? Of course, prices in such a place were outrageous.
Earlier in the day we’d had phone issues. We called our carrier and worked out a solution, which was to have one phone – we chose Darcy’s - made into a hot spot. The problem stemmed from not all our phones having the same SIM cards. It seemed to work and for most of the trip, Darcy was our go-to person when we needed to know anything.
The availability of a working cellphone was important
because now some state park systems and even private campgrounds have online
reservation systems, which is difficult if you have no service. These online systems are not user-friendly
and there is no immediate support.
Sometimes an account must be set up even for one reservation. On more than one occasion we had to pull over
and spend precious time wrangling with these systems before moving on, so we’d
be sure of a place to stay hours later. We
concluded that the technology is not up to exclusive reliance upon it, especially
when service is sporadic in the mountains.
There was very little space in the campsite in Golden, but girls put up the new tent anyway. It’s perfect – spacious and easy to set up, with a rain fly.
8.12.2020
Once again in Denver we were flummoxed by technology. We could not get into the Art Museum because timed tickets (online) were sold out for the day. Instead, we went to the Museum of Contemporary Art, which also required online advance reservations but had openings. We went in shifts, LCR and I separately from the girls, so someone could stay with the car and Chia. Downtown Denver is not at all car or trailer-friendly. We managed to find a parking lot but were charged double because we took up two spaces, even though the parking lot had plenty of empty spaces. (The van with the trailer cannot be turned around easily so we cannot use indoor ramps.) The exhibit in residence, called We the People, consisted of works made from found objects with themes of refugees and slavery. Sculptures were made using items like used fire hoses, old strollers, a piano, bottles with messages inside that would never be read. The artist was Nari Ward of Jamaica. My favorite piece was a photograph of a church floor in the south. The floor had a pattern of holes, a folk art design, which was a symbol of freedom as well as a cosmogram to be meditated upon, but it also had a practical use – the design provided breathing holes for escaping slaves who were hidden under the church floor. Ward has used this motif in other pieces, wall mounted and made with copper and other materials. The girls got free cloth face masks with designs by famous artists. It had something to do with a group of people going in all at once, because LCR and I were not offered masks.
That night we backtracked a bit, because we had gone farther west than we intended, and we camped at Jackson Lake State Park, where there was lots of space on the shores of a small lake. We left Chia in the trailer and went to the Wild Animal Sanctuary, which had been recommended to us by Geneva, who had seen it earlier in the year with friends. We highly recommend this attraction. It is like no other and will change your feelings about wild predators. The Sanctuary is a rescue organization that provides large, open habitats, rehabilitation, medical care, and a less stressful life for rescued big cats and other large animals who have been mistreated in petting zoos, circuses and even private homes.
It’s rather hard to get to, along small country roads with few signs, and we were nearly prevented from going by a stopped freight train. We got there very late but were told that might be a better time to go anyway, because the animals sleep during the hot daytime hours. First you watch a video about the project and its mission, and then you go on a walkway 35 feet in the air. Apparently animals do not see anything in the air as a threat so they ignore the humans passing overhead. Since many of them have had traumatic experiences with humans, it helps them to have little human contact. The walkway is 1.5 miles one way. Below are many habitats, vast and grassy with barely visible fences, for animals in various stages of rehab. As we walked along and the sun set (bright vermilion, which we were told was due to two nearby raging forest fires), we saw more and more animals. Our eyes got used to seeing lions among the dry grass and foxes in grass-covered dens and under bushes, and sometimes sleeping on top of their habitats on wooden spools or concrete culverts or high ladders with platforms. We saw two young bears fighting - one rushed the other, then they tussled a bit, and eventually both backed down and away. We saw lions and tigers lounging lazily like the cats they are, and a bear sitting up looking exactly like Baloo from “Jungle Book.” In the distance, there was even a lone bison.
As it grew dark, the lions started roaring. One big male started and other lions picked up the call throughout the park, some so far away you could not see them. A guide who was rounding up guests and walking them back to the entrance said it was like roll call. They check in with the other lions spread out on other habitats across the park, back and forth, as if to say, you all right out there? Looking down at the roaring beasts, we could clearly see them using correct diaphragmatic breathing. Singers could take a lesson from them as to how they get that powerful sound. Our guide, Linda, a middle-aged woman in jeans and a safari vest, was knowledgeable and talkative. All the employees at the park are passionate about the place, and it’s not hard to see why. They see the animals when they are brought in, often from small zoos or circuses that are illegal and have been shut down by authorities. They might be injured, sick, starved and sometimes just depressed from being confined in small spaces for years. Then the facility provides medical care, a sound nutritious diet and as they begin to feel safe, gradually increasing opportunities to roam around, until the animals are ready to be released into the larger habitats and perhaps even allowed to live with others like them. The stories told about these creatures are both heart-rending and heartwarming.
One odd thing about the park is that it seems to be close to a shooting range. We could hear shots echoing across the plains. We asked the guide about it and she said it is worrisome but so far they have had no signs of stress to the animals or encroachment on the property by shooters or bullets.
This is an expensive outing - $40 a person with a required donation beyond that in any amount – but it’s absolutely worth it, to not only see these animals in an environment closer to their natural homes, but to be part of an effort to make their lives better. In some ways it’s the opposite of a zoo. This facility is designed with the animals in mind. People are only guests, outside observers from a distance.
Leni drove back to the campground with zinging lightning overhead, and eventually the wind kicked up a dust storm until it was down to zero visibility, while driving on washboard gravel. It was scary driving but she handled it calmly.
Back at the campsite, it was quite windy but the girls put up the tent in the wind and the dark. It stayed windy with a little rain for a few hours.
8.13.2020
Next morning it was sunny and got hot fast again. Since the campground was right on the shores of a lake, the girls and Chia went wading a bit. Chia sort of tolerates the water, doesn’t really love it like some dogs do, but they always have a good time together.
It was decided we needed new tires. We knew they were smooth but did not realize just how smooth. We drove west again, into Boulder, for this purpose. It would take some time to get the work done so the girls and I left LCR at the garage and went for a walk and got sushi and Chinese take-out for Abina’s birthday. We found a park and ate under a big tree in Bloomfield Park.
That evening, there was no campground space to be found. We drove through the mountains to the White River National Forest where there are many campgrounds that do not require reservations, but they were all full. Back to Dillon, CO, we looked for a Wal-Mart but it was closed, so there was no way to get permission to dry camp there. We did see some trucks parked there but I did not want to take the chance. We went to a La Quinta Inn, chiefly because it was the only hotel we could find where the parking lot would accommodate the Burro – space is at a premium in this small, tourist-oriented town. The girls stayed in a room with Chia while LCR and I stayed in the Burro in the parking lot. We did check with the desk clerk as to whether it was ok, so we would not trip any security procedures.
8.14.2020
We awoke in the hotel parking lot to much noise and many trucks, and discovered a construction project going on right there in the lot. There was no breakfast offered at the hotel because of the pandemic, so we decided it was time to leave anyway. We found a local bakery and coffee shop and got bagel and egg sandwiches. For Abina’s birthday, we went to a dispensary and I got her some things, since we were in legal weed territory. The others stocked up as well.
As we drove west it seemed to be getting very smoky. We discovered huge forest fires were causing a huge portion of the I-70 to the west to be closed to traffic. We had planned to go west and south after we crossed into Utah, but instead we changed course and headed directly south. Even at that, hours away from the fires, visibility was lower for the first hour or so.
We had made reservations to stay at the KOA in Cortez,
CO. It was very expensive but we felt
lucky to get a site at all. We had to
pay extra for the tent site but the girls were adamant that they would
reimburse us for the cost. After dinner,
the girls broke out their dispensary purchases and indulged in a true Rocky
Mountain high. LCR and I did not
partake, though we have been known to take a hit on occasion.
It got very cold at night, but the girls had new down sleeping bags so everyone was cozy. We learned that the visitors’ centers at the national parks are closed, though the parks themselves are open. This meant no tours and also no A/C respite from the heat. It was discouraging, because I always do some advance research, and I had not found this information on any of the NPS websites I visited before the trip. The heat was punishing during the day, but there were several archaeological sites I had always wanted to visit, so we thought we’d check them out anyway.
8.15.2020
In the campground, we talked to a young couple with 2 kids traveling with a pop-up. They asked about the Burro and mentioned the time-consuming issue of setting up and then packing up every day. We told them, that was us 15 years ago. Shamelessly, we sold them on trailer travel. I advised them to try renting some sort of RV first, a small trailer or cabover, to see if they liked it, but we know they will.
We tried to get out early to beat the heat but it was already blazing at 9:30 a.m. We drove to Canyons of the Ancients. There is a huge ruin called Lowry Pueblo that dates back 2000 years. It was inhabited up until the 1300s, but those are estimates – it could be even older. You can see different time periods from the bricks in the remaining walls, and repairs and remodeling.
There were Native Americans from New Mexico working at an area of the ruins that looks like a large amphitheater or gathering hall. It is called the Great Kiva and they were doing restoration. They stood in the kiva, about 6 feet below the ground. The structure was probably used as a community center and may be the reason this site was occupied by so many different groups through the ages.
We drove further into the park to Painted Hand pueblo. The trail did not appear to be a real road, and it was not clearly marked, but we met a man near his parked truck who said the land was his property. He told us he was involved in a dispute with the Bureau of Land Management but that it was definitely the only way to get to the pueblo, and said “I’ll allow you to go there and not shoot you.” Westerners have such a dry sense of humor. It was a very bumpy, primitive road. The sign at the beginning of the hiking trail said ½ mile to Tower. The girls set off first, and LCR and I followed. For a while the trail seemed clear, but after a while we saw flat areas that also could have been part of a trail. We got separated. After some time I began to call out “Marco,” after the old Marco Polo game, which we sometimes use when we get separated in a wild area. I got no answer. I also called the girls’ names. Still no answer and I could hear no voices, only the wind through the scrubby bushes. Finally LCR caught up with me. He said he had not heard my calling nor the girls. We headed back to the car; that direction at least we could remember. We never did get to the pueblo. Eventually the girls appeared, saying they saw sort of the back of a building that might have been the pueblo, but not much. It was sobering to realize that in just a few minutes, we could get lost enough not to hear each other calling.
We continued down an even bumpier road which supposedly led to more ruins, which we also never saw. By this time it was getting very hot, around 100 degrees, and I was feeling sick. Even with hats, sunscreen and plenty of water, that kind of heat gets to me. The drive back to Cortez took quite a while, but through spectacular scenery, layers of cream and pink rock formations. We got Mexican take-out at a local place and went back to camp to rest.
We went into the town of Cortez in the evening for a presentation of Native American dance and music at the Cortez Cultural Center. I felt like I had forgotten just what a pleasure it is to watch a live performance. Masks were required and distancing was not difficult as it was a very small audience of about 25 people. We felt especially lucky when we learned this was the last performance of the summer. The performers were a family – grandfather, his wife and her sister, grandson and three-year-old granddaughter. The program was held in an outdoor amphitheater in back of the Center. The back wall of the Cultural Center was stucco and painted in a trompe l’oeil style to look like a multi-level pueblo, complete with roofs, ladders at several levels, windows and occupants going about their daily activities. The grandfather was the announcer and when he introduced the participants and gave their tribal affiliations, he said the little girl, named Rain, was a “full-blooded Cute.” He danced, sometimes to recorded music and sometimes to flute and drum. He said the dances were typical of their culture and explained the stories they told. His 17-year-old grandson also danced and played flute. He was very talented and enthusiastic. It seemed unusual and refreshing to see such a young person interested in learning the ways of his ancestors. The most spectacular was the hoop dance, in which the grandfather danced in and out of various combinations of plastic hoops, like hula hoops but a little smaller in diameter, making various formations that evoked images of animals that would have been familiar to his ancestors. The women, including little Rain, did a Jingle Dance in dresses sewn with many metal pieces that made a rhythmic jingling sound to the drumbeats. LCR talked with the grandfather for quite some time after the performance while the girls and I shopped at the Center gift shop which was full of interesting books and authentic native crafts. We had to remain conscious of distance because we had been told the family of artists came from an area where Covid was very prevalent. We talked for quite a while with the performers, especially the grandfather and the teenage grandson, and LCR left with a beautiful flute, not unlike the one played during the performance. It was made of smooth polished wood, about 20 inches long, decorated with soft cream-colored leather wrappings.
8.16.2020
Very hot again. This day we drove to a national monument called Hovenweep (which means “deserted valley” in the Paiute language). At this park, there were two rangers answering questions at the visitor’s center. There were no tours, but it did help to have people to talk to about what we were going to see. I took a very short hike then stayed with Chia while the others continued farther. I was not going to repeat the heat sickness of the previous day. We did find a little scrubby tree with a bit of shade and we had a good view of that particular part of the canyon and the ruined buildings from there. The buildings are at least 1,000 years old; it’s not known for sure, nor what they all were used for. At this center, though the building itself was closed, the bathrooms were open, there was a shady breezeway in the center, some low stone walls for seating, and a very welcome water bottle station was operational. LCR came back from hiking extremely thirsty as he did not take a water bottle with him.
In all fairness, these two parks were not National Parks but National Monuments, which affects the amount of development such as roads and buildings. Still we were surprised they were so difficult to navigate. The ruins are so interesting, but I think many people who might like them would be put off by the difficulty of just getting there. And the posted maps are misleading and occasionally just plain inaccurate.
We drove farther into the park, toward a ruin site called El Cajon. One again, road signs used the word “unimproved,” but that is an understatement. The roads are marked poorly or not at all, and bumpy like a carnival ride. Despite miles down one of these, during which testy discussions were had and the threat of mutiny seemed real, we never did find the El Cajon site. At one point we parked and LCR went ahead on foot, as the rest of us were not going to hike aimlessly. He did not find anything.
Back at the main road, we went to the last large grouping of ruined buildings. Even with 4WD we were tired of the bumping along. The AC did not seem adequate to the 100-degree temperatures and bright sun. Once again LCR went off on his own for what seemed a long time, coming back very tired and dehydrated.
In the evening we were too tired to do much, so we fired up one of the laptops and watched part of a Jackie Chan movie. It was not a long film, but still we were too tired to finish.
8.17.2020
The original plan had been to go west and north to the Moab, Utah area at some point, since several of our party had not seen Arches. However, the temperatures in that area were forecast for the 100-degree range for the next full week. So, changing direction for the third time this trip, we decided to head somewhere in search of cooler temperatures. We turned around and headed back east, and the relief of cooler temperatures once we got a few thousand feet into the mountains was wonderful. We went past Pagosa Springs and back through the famous Wolf Creek Pass without any idea where we would go next. Leni has now driven through Wolf Creek Pass, which has some of the most difficult mountain driving we’ve ever seen, twice, from both directions. I always want to get a photo of the “Continental Divide” sign at the top of the pass, but there is no place large enough to pull off with a trailer. The metal sign is riddled with bullet holes.
We stopped at the first campground we saw – Fun Valley Family Resort. It was not at all the kind of place we usually stay. It was huge, with lots of activities, all for a fee, such as mini golf and tubing, though we were told there wasn’t much tubing this year due to the drought lowering the level of the San Juan River. We did see lots of people fishing. There was even a “Guaranteed Catch” pond. The temperatures were so pleasant – in the lower ‘80s because we were farther up in the mountains. We asked for a spot in the shade. The open areas seemed quite popular with big rigs, perhaps because they tend to have satellite dishes and could get a better signal. The big rigs were parked in rows like small villages on either side of the central road in the campground. Some had fences, mailboxes, small figurines and other amenities suggesting they come back year after year. We went across a small wooden bridge, in a wooded area which was laid out diagonally. It wasn’t cheap but not as expensive as some places we’ve stayed, and there was no extra charge for the tent. We just hung around the rest of the day, made a fire and relaxed with the girls’ delicious dinner of mushroom protein, veggies including kale, tomatoes and onion, topped with goat cheese or parmesan.
8.19.2020
We attempted to get WiFi to work in the building which also houses the campground office. It is probably a restaurant or clubhouse in better times, but deserted during the pandemic except for the clerk at the counter and several people lounging around the back entrance trying to get cellphone calls to go through. From what I overheard I gather some were successful, some not. We asked the security guard and he cheerfully confirmed that sometimes the WiFi works, but sometimes it doesn’t. Darcy managed to get a connection but I could not get in.
We left the camp and drove into the nearby town of South Fork, where we could get better WiFi in the parking lot of the visitors’ center. There was a guide at the visitors’ center, and we asked about hiking. However, his directions led us to an area that seemed mostly for ATVs, not hikers, so we moved on.
We drove to a Bureau of Land Management site called Elephant Rocks. We had once visited a state park in Missouri called Elephant Rocks, with large, rounded stones you could climb on. The stones at this park were about the size, indeed like elephants, but more angular. The park is right out in the middle of an area of open desert fields. We went on to an area called La Garita. To get there, we bumped along yet another almost-road, with washboard areas and a huge puddle at one point from a recent rain. We had to drive along the edge. There were no warning signs but it is hard to imagine anything other than a 4WD vehicle navigating this road. La Garita, which translates roughly as “sentry box,” is a huge window-like hole in a small mountain, which you can climb up to. There isn’t actually a parking lot, but a biggish turn-around. We parked below the peak and climbed partway up the hill opposite to watch the girls and Chia climb up the mountain. Abina got to the window, which appeared to be several hundred feet up. When she got up there it was apparent the hole was much taller than we had thought, maybe 25 feet high.
Driving away in the evening, we were stopped at an intersection by a man in a white ponytail, driving a pickup with a water tank something like the one in the movie “Holes.” Somehow in conversation it came out that he was originally from Wisconsin. He asked if we were looking for camping, and said the land around that area belonged to the Bureau of Land Management (BLM) and we could camp there for free for up to 14 days. It seemed fitting – BLM lands, like Black Lives Matter? - LCR and the girls felt it was clearly part of their birthright. So we went back to Elephant Rocks, since that was the only place nearby that offered anything like shelter. We parked the trailer inside the park’s entrance near some of the big rocks, and the girls pitched their tent some distance away. We could see the lights of distant towns far away when it got dark, but it was pretty open and mostly unoccupied for miles. It was beautifully quiet, rained just a little in the evening, and then the girls took down the rain flap on the tent to do some stargazing. It was amazing to be out there so alone. We do have to learn to plan better in case of the opportunity to “dry camp” - at this point, the term was literal, as we had absolutely no water left.
8.20.2020
We had breakfast at an IHOP; nothing else was open. The staff was nice and friendly and it was socially distanced so we felt safe. We filled up on eggs, pancakes, and potatoes. We also had to buy water for the day at a convenience store in Del Norte, CO.
We had reservations in Goodland, KS, but just outside Colorado Springs, a huge rainstorm stopped us dead. Fortunately we did not have to drive far before making it to the parking lot of a store, where we dashed in and did some shopping while the storm raged and our cellphones went off with multiple warnings about local flash flooding. The clouds and lightning were spectacular, and it was clear on the north side of the road and stormy and dark on the south as we continued to drive east. The last big mountain we saw was called La Blanca, and it did seem to glow white in the evening light.
We cancelled the reservation for Kansas, and instead made one for Seibert, CO, at a small campground with one bathroom, with the tent pitched right outside the bathroom. The lights were kept on all night, but by the time we stopped it was 9 pm and we were so tired that the lights were not going to keep us awake. It was stormy during the night so that I kept checking out the window to make sure the tent was still anchored.
8.22.2020
In central Kansas, we had homemade pizza for $10 each at a family-owned campground. The owners fixed it in their home and brought it out to the site. The couple were very friendly and it was a nice luxury.
Home in Chicago: Geneva had cleaned the house and made wonderful soup from tomatoes and collards from our own garden. It was good to be home.
Gas prices: High - $2.43 in Chicago; Low - $1.79 in Abilene, Kansas and Des Moines, Iowa.
Signage:
Sign: Brown Rabbit Collectibles and Gifts, By Chance or Appointment (Somewhere in Colorado)
Sign in Colorado near La Garita: Shop locally – you’re DUNE good! (Billboard in Alamosa, CO, near Great Sand Dunes Nat’l Park. We did not stop since we had been there before.)
Crane’s Country Store in Kingdom City, MO: Boots, Britches, Bullets, Bologna
Sign at southern Illinois farm: Free men own guns. Subjects/slaves can’t.
T-shirt at store in southern Illinois: I got this. – God
Sign at Canyon of the Ancients: No blading in barrow ditches between signs. (I have no idea what this means. Maybe instructions for mowers???)
Business: G-Whil-Liquors, Cortez, CO
And the winner:
Sign in restaurant and gas station in Del Norte, CO: Wash your hands like you just finished slicing jalapenos and you need to take out your contacts!
Love, Lu!
Comments
Post a Comment