Return to Ouray

I hadn't been to the mountain town of Ouray in at least 10 year and was curious to see if it had changed. Cindy and I had spent an amazing time there while out and about on one of our many US travel adventures.

I found a campground on the map near Ouray, that said it was just in a spectacular setting outside of town. I drove a few miles up route 360 and turned into the Angel Creek campground. It had maybe 12 sites. At the at the beginning of the campground was a information booth that allows you to pay it also. It also said that if you wanted information about hiking drive a mile up to the next campsite and find the camp host.

His name was Steve. Steve'O he told me. I didn't ask what the "O" was for . "I'm Jeff. No nothing more just Jeff" I said back. I assumed you would just call me just Jeff after that but I don't think he was that quick. He was really, really blissfully stoned. I forgot that in Colorado pot is now legal and he was absolutely having a great time. I instantly loved the guy. I asked him about hiking even though I wondered if he had ever hiked a day in his life. He said "Oh, just go over to that cabinet over there, open up the back and you'll find all the information you want". I opened up the back and there was nothing other than basic brochures that had nothing to do with anything other than local eateries and tourist traps.

He came over and sat down next to me. And then handed me a giant rock that was sitting on the table. He looked at me, and beamed at the rock like it was something so special. I didn't really know what to do with it, but I was game to play along. Smiling, I asked "what is it?" He said "it's from around here". "Okay" I said "is it a some sort of crystal thing?". He said "yes I found it on my hikes". I looked around and saw the table that he was sitting at was littered with these crystals that he must have found on his many short forays into the woods. Pleased with himself, he looked me in the eye and said "this is the best place in the entire world. I love living here, I love doing this. I can't believe how lucky I am to be the camp host here". Earnestly he then said, "you need to stay here. You need to just hike here. You need to just be here". And stoned or not, he was so right. It's not just gorgeous here, it's amazing and like nothing that I can actually explain.

I asked him how he got his posting. He said "oh, I got it from a friend of a friend. It was a dream come true. I'm not really sure what I'm going to do in October when it's over. But I don't really care". Then he told me about a secret waterfall just up the road. "Well it's not really that secret, I tell everyone about it" he said. "It was secret to me because I'd never heard of it before". There was some logic in that idea. And then he gave me a set of instructions that I don't think anyone could actually follow to get there. But I may try doing it tomorrow. But just from talking to him. I decided to stay more than one night here. So I went back to my camp and paid for two nights and we'll see what happens.

Im so glad I did. The next day while doing a punishing uphill hike, I met a guy and his dog coming down the trail. He told me about some dinosaur footprints that I'd see along the route. If he had not told me about them, I would not have know what they were. So so so awesome!

Nomadic Encounters in Kansas

As the long days of driving from east to west dragged on I realized that my stress level increases the later it gets and if I had not found a place to sleep for the night. I stopped for a while when I had internet access and found a free campsite in the middle of what looked like nowhere Kansas. I drove through a small no name town wondering where the road was actually going. Through twists and turns and tiny country roads, I finally ended up at a "fishing lake". I wasn't really sure what a fishing lake was but it seems to be a state park that's free for anyone who wants to camp there for up to 14 days and just fish.

A woman in a campsite a bit down the shoreline from me wandered up to take a look at my rooftop camper. She was brown and creased from years in the sun. Her age was indeterminate. Her voice was ragged from too many cigarettes. I hated myself for noticing.

She was a free spirit. She said she had been living like this for 10 years. She started with a car. Then a van and then finally upgraded to a trailer. I looked at the trailer down the road, rusted and aged. I felt sad and also interested in what her life must be like. She told me she had never been to the West. She just keeps bouncing around in the middle of the country. North in the summer to places like wherever the hell we were. She had her routes noted on an atlas. Highlighted so she knew where to be at what time of year. I found her fascinating.

She also said that these months at the fishing lakes had been insanely hot this year. But strangely, you cant cool off in the lake. You're not allowed to swim in them. You can wade out in them like all the people do that are fishing, but if you actually get your shoulders below the water it's considered swimming. And you can be fined a hefty amount. She said something about her grand kids being able to splash about in the lake, but that they couldn't sit down in the shallows of the water. She said in a few days she was on her way to another lake where she could stay for 15 days. It's an interesting life.