Occupation of Independence

It is strange that an experienced RV boondocker would enter a new area and feel trepidation about finding a camping site. After all, how many times have I done this, by now? But I have certain prejudices against Colorado, and expected the national forests to be camper-unfriendly. I went campsite-shopping with the usual DeLorme and Benchmark atlas. As feared, some of the forest access was blocked by McMansions and private roads. At other times, I did find access, but the wireless signal was blocked by the topography. It becomes a game to visualize the topography relative to the cell tower. Wait a minute--I didn't know where the cell tower is. So it was a game to infer the location of the cell tower based on the number of bars my cell phone displayed at different locations, and based on that, to deduce the strength of the signal over the next hill. This is great fun; the cell tower, not yet quite real and visible, becomes a fiducial point which you use to visualize

The Little Poodle and I "paddled" upstream -- on the mountain bike -- along the popular Arkansas River, near "Byoona" Vista, CO. We saw one river rafting company after another. As luck would have it, we made it in time for their mass 'descension' of the Arkansas River. (If balloonists at the Albuquerque festival can have a mass ascension, then rafters in Colorado can have a mass descension.) It seemed like a documentary about the D-Day invasion of World War II. Actually it all happened quickly and smoothly. It has always been a poignant experience to watch people enjoying any water sport. I tried to connect with the water over the years, and nothing really worked. So I surrendered to my fate as a land mammal. The little poodle, not being a Labrador retriever, feels the same way. So we turned away from the river and biked into an area dominated by foothills of spheroidally-weathered granite. The road was actually just a dry wash of decompo

You just can't beat a ride up a spiral, candy-striped mountain. There aren't many of them. In part the fun is purely whimsical, like something from a Dr. Zeuss book.  You get a 360 degree view from a spiral road. Salida, CO, has a small mountain of this type that overlooks the town. It was only a short ride, but it reminded me of a grander ride, spiraling up to the top of Steptoe Butte, in the magnificient Palouse of eastern Washington. Having opted to stay south this year, for fuel and other reasons, I won't have a chance to do my annual ride up Steptoe. I found a few old wrecks to photograph. What a relief! Perhaps I have misjudged Colorado; I was afraid everything would be modern, affluent, and sterile. The second surprise occurred when a woman in a dress got on her woman's-frame bicycle and pedaled off on some errand. They still make such bikes, with a chain guard, fenders, and a little shopping basket. I never would have expected a unisex grin

Driving from New Mexico to Colorado yesterday was fun because the differences were detectable. I had forgotten how large and agricultural the San Luis Valley was. I went into the Big R hardware and ranch supply store in Alamosa. It's funny how your first impressions in a town mean something. They had a sign telling people that the restrooms were in the northeast corner of the store. Information like that is useless to most of the human race. Who besides a few sailors or midwesterners navigate according to the compass? Looking the town over more carefully, I noticed more baseball caps than cowboy hats. Hmm? It was impressive to see a place out west where the agriculture was as serious as in the midwest. First day in Salida, CO: The little poodle and I biked into town this Sunday morning. The first building of significance was the LDS church. I groaned. Well after all, Colorado shares a long border with Utah. Downtown, near the Arkansas River, there was a real su