Cokeville Wyoming

After U-Dig I was supposed to go dig up some fossil fish with Fossil Safari so it was decided to get closer that night. I was dubious. I drove far into cow country and mile after mile there wasn’t a house or a town to be seen, just cows, cows, and more cows. I was hypothesizing I’d be sleeping aside the bovines for the night, especially after a “Rest stop” I passed turned out only to be an outhouse (with no toilet paper or soap) and a picnic table surrounded by cow pastures. I was quickly learning just how much this country loves beef. There are cows EVERYWHERE all the time. Finally I reached Cokeville, and saw a Pilot’s truck stop. The parking lot was empty as could be. Aside from the music blaring and the bright lights the place seemed to be deserted but then again I suppose a town with only five hundred people would always deserted.

In the morning when I went to use the restrooms one of the attendants gave me a fierce scowl, for what reason I’ll never know. Perhaps it had something to do with the half and hour or better she spent staring at the Jeep with her co-worker from their steps. I slinked off. Coming out of the Pilot’s was no better. A cop immediately came from nowhere and pulled me over. I was absolutely confused as to why. The cop came over and in a very rushed and aggravated voice he asked for the license and registration. Looking at the license he then asked what I was doing in town and where I was going, and why. I got the feeling I was being watched and the locals around here are less than welcoming to interlopers coming through. I wondered what could cause such abrasive behavior and possible paranoia. Was it the fact I was wandering through parts of the country notorious for fundamental Mormonism? Who knows. I wasn’t even given enough time to take out the registration before the cop threw the license back, made up some cock and bull story about how you’re not supposed to “shoot out onto the highway” (I’m pretty sure us normal people would call that merging) and told me to keep going. It was weird. The day wasn’t going to get much better…

I drove and drove and drove out into the middle of nowhere to find this damn quarry. As it turns out the address programmed into the GPS was on the contact information page of the quarry because the actual quarry address was not listed anywhere. This isn’t normally a bad idea except when the address is actually the people who work the quarry’s home… two hours away…. 200 miles off course… and after passing another site I really did want to visit (Fossil Butte National Monument.) One tank of gas and half a day down….

***UPDATE: Further research has let me know that Cokeville Wyoming may have had reason to be so unwelcoming. In 1986 it was the sight of the Cokeville Wyoming Elementary School Hostage Situation and Bombing. Sooo…. strangers aren’t particularly loved there…

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July 26, 2011 0

Jeep vs Fallen Tree – Rochester NY

Rochester New York was an interesting place to visit.I had been there visiting before but this was to be with friends and I didn’t get to see many of the sights of the city – ‘least you could the road they affectionately call “Drive By Shooting Way.”

At first I ended up on a group lunch date of sorts with some of the aforementioned friends. They were insistent on going to Moe’s, a burrito chain restaurant with killer food. I must say they were all very cheerful and friendly people, all smiling and laughing and having a good time.

I wandered off after this to explore the city a bit and ended up at a salt water fish store. The place was a windowless business with a wrought iron door, outback of some real businesses. No business sign was anywhere to be found and the door itself looked liked either a loading dock or else some other utility door the public shouldn’t be using. Still, the insides were just as amazing, if not more so, than the last time I’d been here. Along with their gorgeous coral and salt water fish they added a rare fresh water fish collection which sported the most unusual fresh water fish I’d ever seen. They were all vibrantly colored and so healthy!

From here I went to a record store which had so many neat things. I was out of cash and couldn’t buy anything. It’s a shame too as they had a bunch of records I had been looking for since getting my turn table, that I had never seen before. Oh well. I’m sure I’ll eventually find them somewhere else too. The record store was actually in an old mill they were converting into a mall. It had bizarre little stores and shops and a gallery atop it covered in fish and sea creatures as well as some other fantastically odd sculptures. I took photos and awed for awhile. Despite being a mall I couldn’t help myself from whispering here. It was as quiet as a library and I felt like I needed to be using my “inside voice.”

I still had some time to kill so I went to Rochester’s historical cemetery. Frederick Douglas and Susan B Anthony were buried here as well as a lot of other famous Rochester personalities including its founders, politicians, poets, and artisans. I parked next to a little boarded up cathedral and I got a weird spooked feeling. I got out of the car and walked to Susan B Anthony’s grave. Despite being dead for a mere 105 years someone was still leaving flowers on her grave. I probably would have left some too had I just happened to have some posies on me. She was after all a pivotal figure in the woman’s suffrage movement and an advocate of women’s rights. Another passerby asked us where Frederick Douglas’ stone was before being pointed in the right direction. It was only a minute after I heard an enormous CRACK! WHOOSH! THUD! It came from the direction of the Jeep. I started to walk over there to see what had happened. As I was walking a man from below the hill yelled, “Did you see that?!” “Yeah I saw it!”

When I got to the bottom of the hill the damage was evident. There under a massive branch lay the Jeep, it’s roof compartment completely busted open with a leopard print snuggly puking out of it. I however was not the only one to suffer damage. A man on a motorcycle had just driven up when he heard the crack. He dove off his bike and under a utility truck, suffering a few scrapes and bruises. His bike on the other hand was crushed, lying beneath a limb, pinned to the ground. It reeked of gasoline.

I looked at the Jeep and hoped none of the windows were broken or the engine damaged. I wanted to be able to get home. The woman we had directed towards the Douglas stone was back with her husband and daughter. She was a teacher from Vermont and wanted to know if it was my car who had the unfortunate parking spot. Yes.

Her husband called 911 for us to get the firemen and police out here. I took a few photos and was standing aside when a second thunderous CRACK was heard overhead. I ran back as another giant branch fell directly on the Jeep, another park of it crashing into four or five grave stone and knocking them over as if they were just bowling pins.

I called 911 again to try and get the firemen out here soon as a third branch was hanging from above by only a thread. 911 put me on hold, twice, once after calling, and a second time after I refused an ambulance and said no one was hurt. When the firemen finally arrived they sectioned off the area with warning tape. The police were there soon after to make a report and in a few minutes Jacklyn the Jeep was being uncovered and eased out of the parking spot. The passenger side’s fender was dented in badly and had to be sledge hammered in order to open the door without ruining it. The roof sustained a large indentation, the roof container was completely obliterated, the hood was crushed in and sliced down the middle. There were scratches galore… but the Jeep started up and ran and none of the windows were busted. I was more fortunate than I thought I would be.

I drove to Casey’s apartment, an old friend who said I could stay with him for a night or two. Just as we drove into his parking lot the Jeep died. Within a matter of a minute the air conditioning had stopped working, the engine over heated, and the battery died. Upon closer inspection I learned that the tree fell on the hood with such force that it crushed the air cleaner resonator and broke off the alternator. I called the insurance company. They told me that since we didn’t happen to have comprehensive insurance they would not cover any of the bill. The only thing they would cover was a rental car, which they would only give me after we’d checked the Jeep into a mechanic with the money they weren’t giving me. OK, so if I’m understanding this right, they were not going to cover any of our bills because the tree picked a fight with the Jeep, however if I picked a fight with the tree, they would have been fine paying for that! UGH.

I now had a full tank of gas, a broken Jeep, and $30 in my wallet to get home, more than six hours away. Things weren’t to remain gloomy however. Several of the other former coworkers pitched in to McGyver the car back together with duct tape, a piece of Tupperware, and some super glue. The Jeep was again running, this time with a great deal of added character. To make things all the better a pot was passed around the office and $100 was raised to help in the effort to get back home.

Dinner was a party and I ate very well. Everyone was smiling, laughing, telling grand stories and funny office anecdotes, and just generally having a good time. I had a wonderful visit, was helped by a great deal of wonderful people, and was on my way, tepidly but surely.

Also a big thanks to everyone who did pitch in! I couldn’t have gotten home without you!

***I apologize for any missing photos and galleries as I continue to work getting Catching Marbles fully migrated to a new host. Please come back soon for restored photos and thank you for your patience!***

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 22, 2011 0

Niagra Falls – American Side

I decided at quite a late point that I should check out Niagara Falls. The only thing was that I did not have a passport to see the Canadian, AKA, the cool side of the falls, and I had very very little money left anyway. So I decided to check out the American Falls which are for all intent and purposes free. Parking was not free however, until I wandered 500 feet down the road and found a free two hour parking spot. It was yet another ungodly muggy day and I had yet to realize that it’d be quite a hike to see the falls.

I walked, dripping in sweat and dying for a bottle of water I hadn’t brought with me. When I finally got there I was treated with a profile view of the falls, different from the head on view you’d see in Canada but no less impressive. I stayed in its cool refreshing mist for quite awhile before heading back.

I stopped again at the little river leading into the falls and over the much bigger river doing the same. I leaned over the bridge to see. Trolleys were everywhere going to the falls but suspiciously I didn’t see any of them come back.

I bought a cold drink ($2 a can) when I came back and a magnet. Everything here was pricey as you could imagine. A number of ice cream and drink stands along the way did not have their prices listed at all, leading me to suspect they were charging $5 for ice or something similarly insane. All and all it was a nice little walk. I got back before my two hours were up and the frosty Canadian Dry Ginger Ale was the best I’d ever had.

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July 21, 2011 0

Pittsburg PA – Meeting with Friends

Tonight I scored the jackpot – a friend’s house to sleep at. I arrived at the residence of a certain Emily. She was living with her boyfriend Nathan, his two kids, and her own similarly aged daughter. The house was going through a tremendous amount of growing pains as its kitchen was being remodeled, as well as bits and pieces of the rest of the house. They apologized immediately for the mess, but I understood. Renovations are never a tidy process.

I ended up staying three days and taking a bit of a break here. Despite having three kids this place was calm and comforting. The children were all remarkably well-behaved and intelligent (and yes, I do consider most children to be numb as sticks so this is quite a compliment.) Nathan had decorated the house with his own unique artwork, which we spent quite awhile admiring, and Emily wowed me with her fantastic vegan cooking. As if that wasn’t cool enough they had two outrageously friendly and laid back Tonkinese cats and an adorable little skunk who came out nightly to eat.

I even enjoyed their children who delighted in making chalk art on the rock pathway outside and who dug up worms by the hundreds, squealing at them with wonder. Of course the eldest, a boy, felt the need to fill his sister’s Barbie car with worms before burying the whole thing in the back yard while she cried. It wasn’t long though before the girls found themselves distracted by playing with their own batch of worms, rolling them in the chalk until they came out all sorts of pretty colors (and incidentally stopped moving.)

Later the kids gave us one more hearty laugh as one of the girls asked for a bath. “Teacher says I need one. She washed me up a bit but said I still needed a bath. She washed me with a hose outside!” The children were no dirtier than an average mud-loving child, despite the anecdote making it sound so bad. Luckily everyone was still laughing.

After my visit I was well rested and thanked my hosts with a small parting gift from the Jeep – possum plushie that had ridden on the dash across the whole country.

I also went to visit Jesse during this time. She had promised me dinner and she didn’t squelch on this promise in the least bit. I was treated to a delicious feast of salad, chicken, rice, and a dessert to die for, composed of cinnamon French toast topped with melting vanilla ice cream and maple syrup.

Jesse is an opinionated and driven woman with a creative business sense. She was currently running a small farm and selling chicks, chicken-feathered earrings, and dried chicken feet to anyone that wanted them. I passed on the chicks and the feet, though we did purchase some feathered earrings which were well-made from quality materials. She had fun playing Wii into the night. I sort of played too, though I have played Wii only once in my life, and the last video game before that was probably played when I was still in grade school. Suffice to say video games have always been beyond me. I was vibrantly dizzy and nauseous and so tired by the end of the night but that’s alright, I smiled none-the-less.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 18, 2011 0

Mammoth Caves – Tennessee

I was told Mammoth Caves were amazing and that I had to go. I were running very short on money by this time and chose one tour, the New Entrance Tour. It was between that and the Historical Tour. I was told by the desk guy the New Entrance Tour was a good starter with more formations than the historical tour which was just interesting because of all the odd things that have happened in the caves. That sounded good but I sort of wanted to see the pretty rocks… so I went on the New Entrance Tour. There were one hundred and fourteen people in my group, including two infants and a number of screaming children because a big dark hole in the earth is a perfect place to take such easily frightened individuals. I proceeded into the cave and walked down some stairs, and down some more, and down ever more… I was thinking to myself, “Holy crap, I hope I don’t have to climb all these back up again. I’m going to diiiie.” My calves were shaking violently. Really? I was so out of shape going down the stairs was too much? UGH. That’s what two months of constant car riding will do to you.

The cave itself was a dark underground tunnel with a few slimy looking rocks and a few points that you had to duck of squeeze through but they were wide enough for the giant fat man in front of me sooo I got through just fine. Anyway, there wasn’t much to see, just a tunnel. There were no stalactites or stalagmites or anything weird or pretty until the very very end. Finally I approached the Frozen Niagara, a wall of popcorn, some formations that looked like wedding cakes, all typically slimy. They were pretty… but I think the last cave I was in was actually prettier, even though it was damaged pretty bad. Here the damage seemed mostly to be in the graffiti which was carved EVERYWHERE. If I had kids I think I’d threaten to carve initials into them if they tried something like this. Not that hard to keep watch of your kids people… SIGH.

After the fairly disappointing tour I got to bathe my feet in Lysol. Something about saving the bats, which is all cool. Had I more money I would have checked out the historical tour and seen if that was any better. I was told the Wild Cave Tour was amazing. It was also the most expensive and apparently intensely physically taxing, taking six hours and winding you through almost the whole cave through some every tight squeezes. I have a I’ll be back…

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July 15, 2011 0

Graceland, Nashville, & Memphis

I went to Memphis because I’d heard of it and it was in a state I hadn’t yet explored. I had no idea what was there but someone suggested I go see Graceland. OK. So I parked at a little strip mall right next to Graceland and spared myself $10 parking. Oddly enough I was the only one smart enough to figure this one out. I perused the stores… ELVIS ELVIS ELVIS! And nothing but. So much tacky and garish things… I wandered over to Graceland a few yards away. This place was by far the honkiest place I’ve ever been and likely will ever be, at least I damn well hope so. People swarmed the place and paid $34 a person to see Elvis’ mansion and airplane. Seventy year old women with Elvis tatooes teetered in and out of the gift shops clutching bags filled with glitter and shot glasses. I stared at the postcards… Young Elvis, old Elvis, civilian Elvis, military Elvis, thin Elvis, puffy Elvis, Elvis in normal clothes, Elvis giving a young Elton John some fashion hinters, Elvis, Elvis, Elvis!

I can’t say I was ever that fond of Elvis. Why was I here again? Better yet why is the blasphemous Harley shop down the street listening to Cher? I bought a few postcards, if only so I could write indecent things on them…

While I was looking at the postcards I noticed one said “Beale Street, Home of the Blues!” I insisted on going there to even the honkiness out a bit. So I went to Beale Street, which wasn’t terribly far away, and I noticed immediately it beat Graceland hardcore. There was a voodoo/headshop here, BB King’s Blues Club, lots of places to eat, and music notes like the Hollywood stars lining the sidewalk with notable Bluesmen (and a couple of women.) I took a photo of BB King’s note, and was taken inside by a barker who offered to show me Lucille. So I went in.. and looked at one of four replicas of Lucille. He told me Lucille was BB King’s guitar which he auctioned off for charity, but which 4 replicas were made of. It was signed by all sorts of interesting people and the guy told us how Lucille got her name. Apparently BB King had been in a bar fire. He got out of the burning building only to dive back into it to save his guitar. Later he found out the fire started when two men were fighting over a woman. One smashed open a bottle of booze and threw a match to it. The woman’s name was Lucille and if Lucille was good enough to fight over than that was the perfect name for the guitar!

I had a soda and chatted up the bar tender for awhile. Being a hot day with little people in here he seemed happy to talk. He’d done a number of interesting travels in his own day and I compared notes. I gave him a few ideas of where to go next. I left soon after to catch the parking meter. All and all it was a fun street with friendly down to earth people. Much better than Graceland. Less creepy too. A lot less creepy. Especially the voodoo shops. I’ll take those over eighty year women in skin tight leopard spots any day.

After Memphis I went to Nashville… why? Because. I went to find the Grand Ole Opry, again just to say I’ve been there as country music is yet another thing I’m not fond of (for the most part – a little Cash is always good though…) I found out it was currently being swallowed by a shopping mall that was being built and for the most part was gated and fenced off. The rest was blocked by trees. Whatever. I left not too broken hearted.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 14, 2011 0

Joliet – Route 66

I decided I should see the beginning of “the mother road,” historic (and now completely renamed) route 66. People in the Chicago area seemed clueless about this and by the time I hit Joliet it was too late for anything to be open except travel centers, gas stations, and a very bleh Wal-Mart. None of these places seemed to have anything. So I stayed in the area… went to the gift shop/museum in the morning. They had what I wanted, finally. I also stopped by the Route 66 park and the ice cream place with the Blues Brothers dancing on their roof. I guess the Blues Brothers was mostly filmed here or something… it was amusing. Even more amusing was the fact that the woman at the gift store said she often got Dutch people coming in there. This makes no sense to me. Why would America’s most nostalgic highway be of any interest to someone living in another country? What an odd concept! Oh well, to each their own. Route 66 is pretty damn cool. Someday I may drive it straight instead of weaving on and off it, backwards…

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July 12, 2011 0

Chicago

Chicago was a happy surprise. I had heard from several people who’d been there that it didn’t have much to offer, it was just a city. Of course there were museums, one containing the ever-controversial Sue the T-rex, but those all were pricey. I spent an ungodly amount of time trying to find a parking garage with a high enough allowance to let the Jeep and it’s on-roof luggage through, and which had its prices listed. All of them said something like $5 for the first 15 minutes! Or Early Bird Special! But none had their actual prices listed.

So I drove around and around and everyone seemed to be frowning. I figured, “Great, another one of those cities…” I finally settled in the first garage I initially saw after fighting the cab drivers ferociously. They all seemed to be angry old men waving their fists and cursing even though by far they were the ones causing the problems parking in the turning lanes and trying to pass people where they just were not legally allowed. I hadn’t seen drivers this bad since California…

I ended up walking to Millennium Park first. It was supposed to be a sculpture garden in the middle of the city, which is cool, but I wasn’t expecting much of it. The first thing I saw was two huge rectangles spewing water down their sides and women with their children lined up in bathing suits and swimming trunks to play in the massive water puddle the display created. The kids made swimming motions flopped on their bellies in the two inches of water and teenagers shoved each other in it to get their companions soaked. Everyone here was happy for the respite and I was suddenly joyous watching everyone too. The park also offered shade in many parks and there was a music festival going on so in every corner there was someone else playing something else. I was really enjoying myself here. It seems in every city I go to I find all that’s good in humanity within the artistic districts. Wherever there is art, there is hope.

From the Park I made my way down State street as I thought it was their main shopping road. I found a little Chicago gift shop. The place was absolutely tiny and packed with people. Someone accidentally broke a shot glass on the floor and everyone in the shop froze and looked up for an awkward 30 seconds. It was if everyone was expecting someone to come out with a tommy gun for killing a poor shot glass. Finally a guy came around with a broom and a pan and said it was OK. A woman broke the silence as well exclaiming, “Thank God it wasn’t one of our kids!”

I asked the people here where to get a good deep dish pizza and they told me that about a block away there was a place called Giordano’s. I was very hungry so I went up there. It was a nice little restaurant and had pizzas on its menu with the number of suggested people they could feed. The smallest, the ten inch, said it served one to two people. I thought this was a misestimation. Still when the pizza came out I was a bit shocked. I ate one piece and was STUFFED… however I paid $30 for this thing and its bad to be wasteful… I attempted a second slice, got halfway through and felt like I was going to ralph it back up. I couldn’t take anymore! So one and a half slices of pizza went uneaten. “Serves one to two people?! That is so not right! Should really say serves one to two Americans…”

After the pizza I took my bloated achy belly for yet another walk, this time ending up at a little artsy store called Arts and Artists. I asked the woman there were the actual main shopping street was and she was sweet enough to lead us to the window and point it out. So we walked across the bridge, took some pretty photos there, and entered a much different looking part of town. The buildings here were ornately decorated and absolutely beautiful. We ended up browsing through Utrecht, an art supply store I went into pretty much because of its business title which is a town in Holland. They had some really nice handmade papers and neat supplies. If only..

The next place I went into was a neat surprise. I walked into this place that said it was an art gallery but it was the size of a walk-in closet. A man was there saying this was just the entrance, that the rest of the gallery was on the fourth floor. He escorted me to the elevator and pushed 4. I was a bit nervous, having no idea what just happened really. I entered into one of the largest art galleries in the country. It was isolated from a mall that took up the rest of the building and it had some of the most exquisite art I could have possibly hoped for. There were blown glass flower shaped bowls for a good 15 grand. There were portraits, still lifes, scenery, and abstract paintings. I kept picking the same pieces until I absolutely fell for this one artist, who did not sign his or her work. There were maybe ten painting, all in black, orange, and a few other dull colors, which were swirled and allowed to drip like they were melting. It looked cosmic and absolutely amazing. These weren’t on the wall, carefully labeled with artist and price. These painting were stacked one against another on the floor leaning against the wall. They were unsigned and had no price tag. I had no idea how the most beautiful pieces could be treated in such a way. I wanted to know more but what did it matter? I knew I couldn’t afford it whatever it was… I asked the woman painting up at the top of the gallery about them but she was clueless and directed us towards sales. I don’t think she understood much English. Still I left that place feeling so peaceful and intellectually fulfilled.

I eventually walked back to the Jeep, by this time feeling sooo uncomfortable from the pizza and walking. I had walked so much I was feeling sore! As I got to the Jeep I hopped in only to realize I had to pay the ticket first at the little office before they’d let me out. This was only after I was unable to find an exit to the place and ended up on too high a level for the tall roof compartment. SCRATCH, I hit the ceiling. From here I had to drive the Jeep in reverse, hoping to god that no other cars would come by to screw up the process, until two levels down I found a two-way spot to exit! Finally! Always nice to start and end every city visit with something stupid and stressful…

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 12, 2011 0

Northern Minnesota – Ely

I ended up in Ely Minnesota, a town no one has ever heard of, to visit with a woman named Sira. Sira was sitting on the step when I arrived. She was tattooed, both arms, legs, though they were by no means stereotypical or like the butt ugly tattoos you see so many people sporting, it was unique and tasteful. I could appreciate that. Sira herself was a very laid back person with a good sense of humor. She was raising her son Oliver with her husband Jesse. Now, I’ll be quite frank… I’m not fond of children… however this kid was so well behaved! He babbled to me continuously and although I had learned how to decipher so many accents I found I could not understand baby. Baby is the hardest dialect of all. Sira seemed to know what her son was saying… how I am not sure. Perhaps she was telepathic. Anything’s possible I suppose.

I spent a couple nights at their house. Jesse was just as laid back as Sira, if not more so, and everyone was comfortable here. It was refreshing to see a relaxed family like this after all the hellishly awful kids I see on a daily basis with screaming moms and lackluster dads…

***

I was told Ely was so beautiful and serene I couldn’t miss it so I drove up there to check out it’s famed lakes. It was indeed serene and beautiful but looked exactly like home with freshwater lakes surrounded by pine trees and fresh air. Fifty-six days into the trip and it gave me such a pang of homesickness I almost felt like going back to the Jeep and driving straight back to New Hampshire.

I pulled over aside the road to see a loon who was swimming around. I have seen them many times from shore and even closer by kayak but this was the first time I saw anything like what was about to happen. First I noticed the appearance of a second loon, then I watched as the first loon ducked under the water and reemerged with the second loon’s foot in it’s angry beak. The second loon started beating the water with its wings to propel itself away and the first fell in right behind him doing the same thing. I figured the chase would be short lasted but it went on forever, weaving in and out, they led each other farther and farther out on the lake with the first loon viciously attacking the second whenever he got close enough. Twenty minutes later, and without a single pause, the birds were still duking it out. I wondered who’d die of exhaustion first. Then they both dove under the water and I never saw either again. It was weird.

Afterwards I went to see the world’s largest hockey stick. Sira told me it was across from Tuna’s, a strip club, (and a terribly named one if I must add.) It turned out to be across from a completely different titty bar… which begs the question, what does a town with a population of 6,000 need with two titty bars?? And a giant hockey stick? I just don’t know… overcompensating?

This was indeed a very pretty area but i didn’t see any moose and it was so much like home that I couldn’t tell any big differences.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 9, 2011 0

Garden of the Gods – Colorado

I was told I should check out the Garden of the Gods. I didn’t bother to look up what this was before showing up. I stopped at the visitor center first. It was packed to full capacity with pushing, shoving, unhappy people. The postcards were 69 cents a piece, despite the fact all other postcards everywhere in the country were only 35 cents a piece. I rolled my eyes. I looked out the overview and decided to go make a go of it after staring at a map. Thunder was still following me and big angry black clouds swarmed the skies. Sure enough, as soon as I parked in the main parking lot to do the main trail, it started pouring like no one’s business. I don’t mean it was just lightly raining either, it was coming down so hard and so fast that rivers formed on the sidewalks and formed riptides. The drains set up to catch the rain were being quickly bypassed by 90% of the water. I decided to just drive around the park. It was a tiny park but pretty.

The rain had washed away most of the obnoxious people and uncontrolled children. I got out of the car when it let up for just a bit. I took few photos of the balancing rock and drove onwards until I found another little place aside the road I wanted to check out. I crawled behind one of the vibrant red rock formations, ahead of another loud screaming family. Parents here seem to utterly detest their children, yelling at them in angry voices whenever the slightest opportunity allowed, things like, “ICE CREAM?! ICE CREAM!? We’re not going for any fucking ice cream!” Every other car had a Jesus fish on it. I wondered why these miserable people were even here in the first place.

Eventually I made it back to the main trail, stepping out for only a few moments to take a few quick photos. I was surrounded on all sides by lightning and wasn’t daft enough to think that the rain wasn’t going to start pouring again soon. Some boy scouts were ahead of us on the path, spitting and cursing, and behaving as most of the scouts I had come across in my life. Wee little assholes, the whole lot of them. Scout’s honor?

The park was indeed beautiful, the paths were nice and easy. It was merely the massive influx of horrible people that pretty much ruined it for me. I went back to the visitor center anyway for a magnet. While I was in there it started pouring again. I made a mad dash for the Jeep but only managed to get a quick cold shower and a free wash of my clothes. I was soaked to the bone. I was laughing.

If you are enjoying Catching Marbles please consider adding a dollar or two to my limited gas money fund so I can continue going on adventures and sharing them with you! Thank you!

July 6, 2011 0