Leaving Colorado

We drove from the lush campground by the river and made it to our next home at Sacred White Shell Mountain.  We were back in the desert once again. The BLM land was huge and there were many turnouts and large dirt areas. I took the spot that had been recommended. It was the first space from the road and was about a half a mile in.  There was a circle of bigger rigs, but they only took up about half the clearing. I parked way on the other side and had that half to myself until late the first night when a couple other small rigs pulled in for the night.  The group that had circled the bigger rigs came back at sunset and started up generators. They were fairly annoying, but they must’ve been tired because they turned off the generators and went to bed about 10:30. I got a good night’s sleep.

In the morning I noticed that not far from where I’d parked, there were lots of tiny holes in the ground.  Hundreds. As it warmed up, bees were coming and going so there was some sort of underground hive. I decided I’d walk up the road and see if there were any better spots, so Cosmo and I took a hike. On the way back, I saw the van across from where we were set up pull out. The space was big and flat and bee-free and we moved in immediately.  In the late morning, two trucks pulled in with a motorcycle in each bed. Two young guys got out, got their gear on and went “Dirt Biking” (I’m sure there’s a better term for it, but I don’t know it.) I was glad for them to be parked taking up the other half of my site. It seemed unlikely that they’d be there after dark, so they were just sort of reserving my space for me. And if they were there for the night, well, I’ve had far worse people camped next to me.  By early afternoon, all the big rigs across from me packed up and left. Most places are busy on Friday and Saturday nights, and by Sunday they pack it up and go home. That’s exactly what happened. The two young guys came back, drank some Gatorade, yucked it up for awhile and then headed out (after calling me “sir” several times in our brief conversation. I love politeness and respect but it sure made me feel old.  I almost said, “Please. Call me dude.”)   So I had the bee-free place to myself and the larger spot across from me remained empty. It was nice.

The following day I decided that I had to go to The Great Sand Dunes National Park. It was just about 15 minutes up the road. How could I pass it by?  I went and there was a short line of cars waiting to get in.  It didn’t take long, and my first stop was the Visitor’s Center. I got a Great Sand Dunes sticker for the back of my van and a new T-shirt for myself.* The Dunes were crowded. Apparently “sand surfing” is a thing. They had two shops (one inside, and one outside the park) where you could rent a sand dune surfboard. I  saw hundreds of kids climbing the dunes; I didn’t see even one come surfing down in the half hour we spent there. There was a “stream” running across the sand near the entrance of the dunes. Cosmo and I played in that for awhile. I took a couple of photos of the dunes.  Forgive me for sounding cynical, but it looked like a big pile of sand.  I’ve been in the desert since last October. I know what sand looks like.  In fact, if I just didn’t sweep the van floor for a week, I could easily compete with this National Park. As we left, I realized that we were smuggling a lot of the park with us on our six feet. Fortunately, there were showers—the kind you often see at the beach before going up to the boardwalk, for rinsing our feet off.  We only brought a small amount of the park back to the van with us.

###                ###                 ###

My last day at the Sacred White Shell Mountain land, almost everyone left. It was Tuesday, and I guess even the “extended weekenders” were heading home or moving on. I could see a few RV’s way up at the base of the mountain, but there was nobody within a mile of me. Cosmo and I went for a walk, and I loved the feeling of being mostly alone in that vast wilderness.

Back at the van, I noticed how bad my cabinets looked. I realized this a couple weeks ago and while in Home Depot I bought some “cabinet rejuvenator.”  I had completely wiped down the cabinets at the time with soap and water according to the directions, and the “rejuvenator” said to let them dry completely for a day. That was two weeks ago, and I’d lost interest.  I got the magic liquid  out of my cleaning supply cupboard and started in, deciding that I’d do a couple of cabinets each day until they were all revived. I got so into the process, not to mention the results, that I just kept going until every piece of wood inside the van was revitalized. While I was rubbing the wood and watching the liquid be absorbed, I couldn’t help thinking that my skin was pretty much the same as these old, beat-up, dried out cupboard doors. I got a 2-liter soda bottle, and filled it with water, and placed it on the black rubber step outside my van. It heated up in no time, and when I finished with the cabinets, I dug out the rubber “shower head” that my friend Kitty bought for me (Thank you Kitty).  It fit nicely over the lip of the bottle and had tiny holes in the top so that when turned upside down, it provided a perfect, warm, 2 liter shower.  I went inside and put on my swim trunks. As I stood outside, squirting the spray of warmth on my chest and shoulders, I looked around. The nearest van was just a tiny spec up at the base of the Sacred Mountain.  I took off my swim trunks and took the most wonderful shower I think I’ve ever had. To be there naked in nature, watching the past several days’ dirt drip down my soapy body and rinse into the sand just filled me with inexpressible joy. I toweled off, and just stood there in the blazing sunshine for a couple of minutes, taking in the mountains and the sky beyond. At that moment in time, everything was absolutely perfect, including my rejuvenated cabinets and clean skin. I went back inside and found a salve that I bought from a soap maker at the Skoolie event a few months ago. I took tiny dabs and worked it into my knees, elbows and cracked feet. I could see my skin drink it in the same way the wood absorbed the cabinet remedy.

When I finished, I sat in my doorway, looking out toward the mountain. In my world, there is no war, no politics, no religion. For the most part, we’re all friendly toward each other. There are the occasional inconsiderates, who run their generators late at night, or who leave trash behind when they leave, but hey, we are all learning and growing. At that point in time, everything was perfection. I just sat and enjoyed that state of bliss and connectedness to all that is.

###                ###                 ###

When I woke up the next morning, I needed to do some serious planning. I’m heading up to South Dakota so I can change over my van’s registration and my driver’s license. I joined an RV club that touts its ability to guide you through the process step by step. They have sent me forms for change of address—South Dakota is one of the easiest states in which to establish residency, and so many RV’ers who no longer have a brick and mortar home “reside” there. The forms they sent look like they were done by a 4^th grader. They were unnecessarily complicated, and quite redundant. I needed to print them out (I have no printer with me), fill them in, and find a notary. Then they need to be mailed to TX so they can approve my “home address” in South Dakota. I don’t know why, but that morning, this seemed an enormous black cloud hanging over my adventure. I’d also been plotting my slow course up to SD. Once I left Sacred Mountain, there were no BLM lands along my route without doing a pretty serious detour, so I had to make reservations at RV parks. I planned my course and looked for places to stay. Most RV parks and State Campsites were booked up months in advance.  I would be driving through Pueblo, Colorado City and Denver, and I guess this is prime time for people to visit and camp in the area. I did manage to get accommodations for 3 nights, and by then I will have made it to Wyoming, where once again, I’ll have more choices of free land to stay on.

Once I get to South Dakota, I will need to find either a campground or motel, stay one night and retain a receipt. That receipt will prove that I stayed in SD and will fulfill my requirement to be considered a “resident.”  Supposedly the paperwork at DMV is simple, easy, cheap and once done, everything else can be done online or by mail forever. I’m hoping this is all true.

My first campground was OK. It didn’t have any hookups, just a place to park for $20. The campground owners were MIA (I’d booked online, so I didn’t care). I parked, got level and Cosmo and I took a walk. The surroundings were beautiful, with mountains in the background and lots and lots of trees and grass, and meadows in the foreground. Most spots were occupied, but not the ones adjacent to me, so I never saw any other campers while there.

It was blazing hot and very uncomfortable. I guess most of the country is that way this week. It was cooler if we stayed in the shade outside than it was inside the van, so we took lots of walks until sundown when it cooled off a bit. The highlight was finding a huge patch of lambs quarter growing near the van. I harvested a big bunch, and cooked it up for my dinner side dish. It was absolutely delicious. (Thanks Ginny for teaching me what a great edible weed that is.)

The following morning I was on my way to the next campground and after driving just a few blocks, I saw a sign for a public library.  I did a quick U-turn and went in with my thumb drive containing all my South Dakota paperwork.  I got everything printed out, signed and notarized for just $2.30. I then drove 7 miles up the mountain to the nearest post office and sent it all off to “Escapees” club.  I now just have to wait for them to issue my new address. It is a huge relief to have that done and scratched off my to-do list.

I drove in heavy traffic on bad roads to my next campground. It was an absolute dump. It was ugly and crowded.

There was no cell signal and no internet. Most paid campgrounds offer free Wi-Fi. When I checked-in the woman informed me there was no Wi-Fi this year because they “couldn’t find a reliable carrier.”  I pulled into my “site” (think parking space in a crowded mall parking lot.) There were three families to my left with 6 kids under 12 years old occupying my picnic table.  I asked what their site number was, hoping I was in the wrong spot. One of the adult men started explaining that their table was in the sun, so the kids were eating in the shade at MY table and would be done momentarily. I asked again “”What is your site number?” He hemmed and hawed until I said I didn’t care about the kids eating at my table (that was a lie) I just wanted to know if I was in the right spot. Unfortunately, I was. In a few minutes 7 teenagers pulled in on the other side of me. This campground couldn’t be more opposite of Sacred Mountain BLM. When I walked Cosmo, I noticed that there were a dozen empty sites down the road. Why had they chosen to pack us all in the middle of the loop? We were so close, and it was so blazing hot that I kept my windows open at bedtime,(I only had 15 amp service and was afraid that was not enough to run the AC, Fridge and Microwave, so left the windows open and the fan running) and I could hear every conversation at the sites next to me.  The teenagers were surprisingly respectful and quiet, but even so, they were 5 feet from me.  Imagine 7 teens in your bedroom. No matter how quietly they talked, I could hear every word, every giggle, and even a few burps. On the other side, I was not as lucky. The 3 redneck families were playing cards with their loud and bratty kids. They whooped and hollered and argued about who played what card.  Fortunately, they quit at 10:00 p.m. The campground has strict policies and threatens to charge your credit card for:  Not picking up after your dog,   Leaving trash in your site.  Non-compliance with quiet hours.

So apparently they don’t care that they are the only campers making noise at 9:30 but at 10:00, they decide it’s not worth 50 bucks to continue the party. They all went to bed, but the kids (their tent was close enough to my bed that I could spit on them, and it did cross my mind to do so a couple of times) as kids often do, laughed and giggled, and grew loud until an adult yelled “cut it out” and they settled for 30 to 45 seconds before starting up again.  I’m not sure if they fell asleep before I did, or if I just was so tired that I tuned them out, but I slept long and hard and woke up when one of the teenager’s iPhone alarm went off at 6:30.

Cosmo and I walked and found a fishing pond (There was an extra fee to fish there, which of course we didn’t do, but we did get in up to our knees). It was away from the din of the campground and felt so idyllic.  I wish we had been able to just park down there and use our own water and solar power. It would have been so much nicer. We left about 11:00 and drove to the next campground. It was not nearly as far away as I thought it was, which was fine, but that means we are not making much progress heading toward South Dakota. If we keep up like this we should be there by Labor Day!  I had intended to do some trip planning at the new campground, but again, no cell service and no internet. It is really difficult to be “unplugged” for days on end. We are high up. I wonder if we could be above cell towers?  Or do they just not have service out here? We are fairly close to Colorado city. Certainly people nearby must have cell phones here. Every campground we stayed at had some excuse about the bad, or unavailable cell service or internet provider. I started to feel like Colorado was a third world country.

###                ###                 ###

I’ve had computer and internet issues all week. Most places had little or no cell service so my Verizon “MiFi” (WiFi router) didn’t have a signal. I couldn’t get on the internet or send or receive e-mail from my laptop. Then when I DID finally have service, I realized that m laptop wouldn’t connect to the router. My laptop is limping along as it is, because I spilled water on the keyboard. I had to buy a wireless keyboard and mouse to use my laptop. Anyway the whole thing turned into a huge mess with me not being able to recover this e-mail from my laptop to be able to send it. Fortunately, St. Richard of Signal Hill came to my rescue once again and got it working enough to be able to send this out. I am quite grateful for his generosity with his time and computer expertise. I’ll still have to deal with Verizon on Monday to find out why I cannot connect to my router properly.

Lessons from the Road: * I’ve got to choose 5 T-shirts to get rid of. My rule is that I can only bring in something new if I let go of something old. I’ve bought about 5 T-shirts this past year and I’m certain there are at least that many in my collection that I’ve not seen since I packed them for this adventure.  Often, at campsites there is a Give Something/Take Something pile. People leave what they no longer need and if they see something they want, they take it.  I’ve left things before. I promised myself that after a year, anything that I’ve not used must go in such a pile.  I’m going to be leaving some pretty good stuff!  Besides T-shirts that I thought I couldn’t live without, I have a TV/DVD player that I haven’t used since I left Delaware, and an extra tripod, and some assorted kitchenware.

Except for the Sacred Mountain BLM land, I don’t like Colorado. There is some nice scenery, but the roads are horrible, and in between major cities, any stops I make for gas or groceries, I encounter such a redneck vibe. It is strange. I think of Colorado as being progressive. From what I have seen, it is not. There seems to be a “woke” segment, at least in appearance, but even they seem to have an arrogant mentality below the surface. When I am on BLM land, indeed, almost ANYWHERE I am camping, I never pass another person without them waving in acknowledgement. It’s like boaters or motorcyclists. It’s just the polite and expected thing to do. After 4 or 5 days near Sacred Mountain, I was in that state of mind. I went in town to the post office and automatically said hello to a person coming out of the post office. He gave me such a look of contempt before turning away, that I was shocked.  Coming out of the post office, I gently nodded and smiled at a woman getting out of the car next to me. She gave that same look of disdain.  Even in campgrounds, I notice people with Colorado plates will not wave, and if I do, they just turn and look away.  No idea what that’s about. Yesterday while walking Cosmo, I passed within 5 feet of a man walking in the opposite direction. He looked straight ahead, avoiding eye contact. As he passed he looked the other way. I said hello and got no response.  Everything is very expensive. I know it is unfair to base prices here on what they were when I left Delaware a year ago. I understand inflation has taken its toll, but I find most things about 3x as costly as I remember from DE. Two of the campgrounds I paid for were quite expensive, and offered very little and to add insult to injury, when I arrived, there was someone at the gate who informed me that I only paid for the campsite–I had not paid for the park ENTRY FEE, so I had to pay $9 more just to drive to an already overpriced parking space. I don’t like Colorado. I cannot wait to get out and into Wyoming and back to BLM land.