Our trip to Hartsel was brief but not lacking in adventure! raddidge says that we were like the pioneers making their first tentative steps out onto the steppes of the Centennial State. Once the tent was set up and raddidge laid down the Indian blankets (no they're not made out of Indians) she said it was like we had our own yurt. During the drive out we saw a sun dog! I took a picture but it didn't come out much to my consternation. Imagine just a tiny arc of a rainbow hovering just above the horizon.
Anyway, the first couple of hours at the site were busy but peaceful and not at all cold but old man winter had something up his sleeve for us. Around midnight there were some raindrops playing on the top of the tent and this pattern continued through the night. For me there's something comforting about the sound of raindrops above me. The temperature started to drop and the rain continued sporadically through the night. Maybe around 3 a.m. we had a rude awakening when the tent collapsed from the stress of snow and brisk winds out of the south. We banged the snow off from inside, getting the tent upright again was a piece of cake and soon we were huddled under our heavy sleeping bags to ride out the night. The night did have a special surprise for me because I finally heard real live coyotes! raddidge had to get something from the car and I heard a distant yip followed by a small barbershop quartet of canis latrans. She hollered "Do you hear that!" all excited that my coyote cherry was now lost to the high country.
The wind was fucking non-stop. I'm certain if the tent didn't hold two big bodies along with our stuff along with the stakes driven into the ground that we would've tumbled off into the night and then we say "I think we're alone now. There doesn't seem to be any one around."
At times the tent's sides blew in, stuff would bang my head and the rain tarp's stakes would eventually work their way out of the ground. Since it had snowed overnight and the sun made short work of the white stuff soon everything was mushy mud. Since the wind wouldn't let up and raddidge wasn't feeling very warm we decided that our excursion should be cut short. Have I mentioned that the area around Hartsel is beautiful? It's beautiful. And windy. Heck, I wouldn't have named this tiny town after a cattleman I would've named it Windy! With an exclaimation point.
We hiked up to the camper, examined the site and I played with my GPS then took pictures. Also if you ever want to visit the abandoned cabin that raddidge and Spot and I visited back in March then check out 38°53"834' N and 105°47"851' W. It's a place where the cows hang out when the weather gets a bit too hairy for their sedate tastes. Also I need to let you know that Violet the Cow says, "Time for hamburgers."
Getting everything packed up and striking the tent was an adventure all its own. Soon we had everything packed away and we were returning to the relative civilzation of Colorado Springs.
We had dinner at Empire Asian Buffet on Academy and Vickers. Highly recommended, raddidge says they have the best sesame balls that she's ever had at a buffet. raddidge salaciously says, "And I loooooove my sesame balls."
CLICK THE PIC FOR THE DISGUSTINGLY FULL-SIZED IMAGE
For those of you playing along at home, outside of the state of Colorado, being a pioneer in Colorado is a red cunt hair away from admitting one's participation in the systematic genocide of Native Americans. Each time I see some moron with a PIONEERS license plate, I want to pull up alongside and ask "Hey were your grandparents at Sand Creek?
"At least the Republic of Germany has the good taste to not issue SS license plates to their WWII veterans. Heck, Alabama of all places doesn't give out "Forty Acres and a Mule" plates to the descendants of slaves.
Even worse there are those NATIVE bumper stickers. Even if you're not from Colorado you've seen a green plate with this bumper sticker. Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls the only people in this world who can actually say that they're native to Colorado are the Utes, Arapahoe and the Cheyenne!
This would be a great comedy routine but it'd get me run out on a rail. Maybe not... since 3/4ths of Colorado's current population are from out of state, half of that number hail from California.
Thank you, I'll be here all week! Don't forget to tip your waitress and try the veal! Come around for the 10 p.m. show but leave the kids at home because things get a little blue.
Next time, we'll compromise and get a thick foam pad for the tent floor.
