Westward Ho! / Day 7 ... Letting Go in CO

Sunday, August 21

We had a lovely couple of hours in the morning before picking a bunch of wild sage, saying goodbye to the river, and pulling out for I70 again ... heading for a lunch date in Carbondale.

Michael did a Sol LeWitt job in Aspen a few years back, and one of the crew had been a CO local named Takeo. We met up with him for lunch in a local park, before heading on west towards Utah. Passing Vail and Breckenridge in 93° weather was a far cry from what high ski season must look like, but it didn't hold any real appeal either way … my tolerance for big crowds seems to diminish with every passing year.

The mighty Colorado

We stopped in a town mid afternoon to try to figure out a campsite, and after spending 20 minutes thumbing through the apps I use (Allstays and RV Parky and freecampsites.net if you're interested) … the string broke.  The string that connected Freedom Bird's steering wheel to my Navigational Ninja hat, which was lying crumpled somewhere in the pile of snacks and papers and resentment swirling around my feet. 

After some toasty but productive discussion, my desire to have a known destination by late afternoon proved to be too much to deal with, so we ended up chucking it out the window, along with my responsibility to find said site. It honestly was mostly a relief.  My fears of a state trooper knocking on the door at 3am because we'd end up sleeping on the side of the Interstate? They ostensibly followed the planning out the window, but remained stubbornly glued to the side of Matilda, just out of sight. Hmm.

Just over the border into Utah, we stopped at a scenic overlook to watch the sunset.  The fact that we had no place to rush to meant that we stayed for almost an hour, soaking up every last drop of the changing light.

Three hundred photos later, we pulled around the curve to leave and discovered a level-ish spot on the edge of the drive; making the split-second decision to pull over for the night, right behind a rig already parked there. Voila, a free spot! And a beautiful one to boot. I felt less apprehensive about getting in any trouble for it, because someone else was already there. I know, I know, but it's how my mind works.

Wedding T-7 and counting …

lots more pics here

previous posts : DAY 1  / DAY 2 / DAY 3 / DAY 4 / DAY 5 / DAY 6

Westward Ho! / Day 6 ... The Great Divide

Saturday, August 20

Fynn and I snuck out early to take some bird photos on the local lake, but were back in time to get breakfast before getting on the road at 9:30 … a real feat for us. We are not Morning People, ever, though Fynn and I are traditionally up a fair bit before the other two. It's a chance for a bit of quiet time that I'm sorely lacking most days.

Once underway, we got our first glimpse of the mountains 20 miles east of Denver. Once around the city, Matilda got her first real workout, and we were a bit dismayed by the amount of black and white smoke she belched. We paused for a rest and a Google, deciding that we needed to keep her RPMs up on the hills, and that her turbo filter badly needed a scrubbing.

Winding through the mountains, we got off at a small town hoping for a spot to eat our lunch, but nearly got stuck in the process. The valleys are so narrow that turnarounds aren't possible at many exits, and this one would have been a real issue as we're 7+ tons total and the bridge we were facing had a 4 ton limit, but we managed to turn around in a nearly empty Dollar Store lot. The alternative would have been backing down the main street and around a tiny traffic circle … not a pleasant thought at all!

We hiked up over the Continental Divide's 9800' pass via the Eisenhower Tunnel, and got a taste of the first of many 6% grade signs, with the occasional 8% thrown in for good measure. We stopped in Silverthorne CO for gas, and Michael asked at the local National Parks office for any nearby boondocking spots. The attendant tore himself away from a private conversation long enough to tell him about a small free campground 8 miles up the road on the Blue River. Yay!

It ended up to be a gorgeous place with one spot left that we could squeeze into. Michael washed the turbo filter in a bucket, I read a book in the sun, and the boys chased each other with Nerf guns. They came back wheezing a bit, feeling the effects of running at 6500' :). Nice to have a few hours of quiet before dark … it was an incredibly peaceful spot, and the down time wasn't just welcome, it was utterly necessary.

We were very tempted to stay a 2nd night, but didn't in the end. Both Michael and I were feeling sick with colds, his sciatica was still nasty, and we were both struggling with the pace of things. Leaving ourselves only 13 days, starting with an emotional deficit from the previous two months and rather precarious health ... we'd added in the desire to stop and see the sights, but not be bound to a schedule. That meant campsites were always found at the last minute, often on an empty stomach, and always on a tight budget.

My navigational nerves were strained to their very last thread, sawing against the wings of Michael's freedom bird, which was weakly fluttering along beside us while we tried to reconcile the realities of the trip with the dreams of many years. Not a pretty sight, and one that came to a head the next day.

lots more pics here

previous posts : DAY 1  / DAY 2 / DAY 3 / DAY 4 / DAY 5

Westward Ho! / Day 5 ... Crossing into Colorado

Friday, August 19

Our neighbors pulled out long before we did, but after giving Matilda's engine a once-over and tweaking the fan shroud, we made a quick jaunt into town to get groceries, and check out the Pony Express Station/Museum that had been relocated into the local park. After gathering tidbits like the fact that the service only operated for 18 months, riders were preferred to be teenage orphans, and that the fastest trip over the whole 1840 miles was 7 days and 17 hours and carried Lincoln's inaugural address … we scurried back to the camper, hitched up, and headed west towards I70. We had debated the whole I70 vs I80 thing, but opted for the hillier and more scenic southern route.

Our late start meant that we decided not to push through Denver that day, but took our time. At one of the big truck stops, we finally got our rig weighed, something we'd never yet dared to do. We knew the empty weight of Matilda was 6300 lbs, and the empty trailer was 5400 lbs, but I'd long suspected that we were a fair bit over our GVRW load limit given that we've got a lot of tools and books in every nook and cranny. We can add about 2200 lbs of stuff, but that includes any water and propane in the tanks, not to mention all our personal belongings. It adds up fast!

After asking at the trucker's counter how the whole system worked (and being a bit sheepish about it, just because camper folks aren't always welcomed with open arms there), I paid for the required access code and got back in the truck. We swung through the scales, picked up our results, and discovered that we were just under our overall limit! Phew. Nice to know before heading over the Rockies :).

Crossing into Colorado was a bit weird … the scenery changed almost immediately to scrubby hills full of cattle, and corn fields. The views were a lot longer, and it just felt different.

We found a free city park “campground” in Fort Morgan that included 15amp electric, which turned out to be a parking lot with a small median strip that had some outlets 6' up on the streetlight poles. We jury rigged our cord to one of them so that the weight of the extension cord wouldn't yank it out in the night, and I started in on dinner. Our neighbors, with the exception of one spiffy looking 5th wheel, all seemed to be living out of their cars or trailers, and not by choice. It became the Friday night drag strip for awhile, but quieted down early enough to get some really good sleep.

previous posts : DAY 1  / DAY 2 / DAY 3 / DAY 4

Westward Ho! / Day 4 ... Trains, Grains, Plains

Thursday, August 18

Up to a heavy and slow morning – my cold raging, Michael's sciatica screaming, and a time out taken for conversations that needed to happen. The kind that percolate in your subconscious for awhile, and then the thoughts gel to the point that they need to come out, and come out now. Once that was over, we headed out onto Rt 20 again, past innumerable small towns – visible first by a looming grain elevator – and once in the town, you were back out of it again in about a ¼ mile, and back to paralleling the ever-present train tracks and cornfields.

The freights appeared to be carrying mostly coal and ethanol (though we did see one with what appeared to be windmill tower parts), and they were somehow reassuring company in the long, straight, hot stretches. It topped out at 95° that day, but thankfully the camper never became too sweltering for the cats.

After a not-so-quick stop at a giant Cabelas that suddenly loomed in place of the expected grain-elevator (Fynn is currently obsessed with survival gear), we wandered into another city park campground in Gothenburg.

This was the subject of much discussion, as there have been various ideas floated as to having a truck bed cap, or cover, or some such thing to protect the stuff we have in there.  One idea discussed was using an upside down aluminum boat, with it's prow extending up over the cab, and the back portion joining some sidewalls built up from the truck bed. I did my best to stay out of the fray, my skepticism coming in waves that threatened to swamp the whole thing before anyone even looked at the boat's price tag. 

Gothenburg's claim to fame is “The West's Original Pony Express Station” – a nice vague title, and one taken lightly by our only neighbors at the campground, Jim and Lanyin, who turned out to be making their annual trek west via the Pony Express route. Jim declared there to be as many Pony Express stories as there were stations, and we weren't in any position to argue. We met them while they were walking their cat around the park … sans a leash … the first folks we'd encountered who had a cat who would go for walks like ours sometimes will.

It was nice to have another quiet campground, one of the benefits of traveling after the summer crowds are gone.

previous posts : DAY 1  / DAY 2 / DAY 3

Westward Ho! / Day 3 ... Sloshing and Bumping into Nebraska

Wednesday, August 17

We'd planned to start the day with a John Deere factory tour, but had discovered at the last minute that the minimum age was 13, and so gave that up and headed west on Rt 30. The plains slowly gave way to gorgeous rolling farmland, and we dropped down to Rt 20 in the hopes of avoiding thumping our way over the expansion joints.

You see, there's something about the distance between Matilda's back wheels and the trailer's axles that is exactly the wrong distance to hit the expansion joints built into many roads … it causes a very annoying bounce in the hitch that makes a see-sawing motion between the truck and trailer, and it can't be cured by speed or mitigated much at all by the sway bars that we have installed. It's enough to drive us all a bit batty if it goes on for more than 10 miles.

Rt 20 started out with the same issue, but quickly changed into something smoother and we got into Nebraska and found a cheap city park campground in Schulyer, just before dark. Dark enough that I could only smell the cow crap splattered all over the front of the camper – a gift from Nebraska's very plentiful cattle transports, which we promptly renamed 'poop trucks'. A good day, a quiet night.

previous posts : DAY 1  / DAY 2

Westward Ho! / Day 2 ... Iowa! + Friends

Tuesday, August 16

The next morning we were finished breakfast and about to leave, when a man knocked on our camper door and asked for my husband. Turned out his name was Archie, and in a thick Louisiana accent, delivered through a wad of chewing tobacco, he managed to tell Michael that he needed help changing a tire on his 5th wheel trailer. Apparently he delivers trailers for a living, and didn't have the right tools with him. After a successful tire change, we got underway … with a small detour north.

Just in case you're wondering how big those windmill blades actually are ...

You see, my FaceBook message of the day before had announced the commencement of our trek west, and Kim (of Phil and Kim, Max and Chloe, of Iowa Falls) commented that they'd love to have us visit if we could manage it. We decided “Yes, we'll come for a couple of hours!” and hopped the hour north to get to their place.

A quick tour of their new home (orange!), lunch, the Nerf guns coming out, the ball bin getting dumped, Phil's arrival home from work getting closer …

Lunch turned into supper, dusk rolled in and a bonfire was lit … and yes, we spent the night!

previous posts : DAY 1

Westward Ho! / Day 1 ... Getting Rolling at Last

Monday, August 15 / Day 1

Back when we started this trip, I imagined it would take about a year and a half to make it through most of the lower 48 states, visiting and working and seeing a few sights. I was rather off in my expectations, however, as we didn't cross the Mississippi in any meaningful way (as in actually intending to keep going west) until August 15h of this year … the 608th day since we left home.

At the beginning of this year, when we got the Save the Date message for Aran and Lexie's wedding in San Francisco on August 28th, my gut reaction was YES!!, largely because we really really wanted to be there, but also because it just felt right, even though we've found that fixed dates for anything can be very limiting. The ebb and flow of this whole shebang has a more in-the-moment feel to it than any other period of my life. What's immediately in front of us is going to get the lion's share of our attention, and only shifts when we know it's time to move on … and God seems to make it pretty clear when that should be.

So jumping at a wedding on the West Coast wasn't our usual way of operating at all. We'd had no offers of work out there yet, and the density of folks we already knew was a lot sparser. It was going to be a financial/faith leap on a bigger scale than we'd yet encountered.

So by the time August 15 rolled around, and we'd gotten most of the loose ends in Illinois taken care of and a few days of R&R in Indiana, we had 13 days until the wedding, and 2161 miles to go if we took Google's most efficient option. Which we, of course, did not take. Mountains to cross! Plains to roll through! Parks to visit! Scenic overlooks to test the brakes on! Not to mention, campsites to find, camp to set up, and camp to break, every. single. day.

We started off on the 15th of August at 5:30 pm (yes, PM) from Chesterton Indiana, in the pouring rain … after a snafu with Amazon that resulted in chasing a package back to the post office, delaying us by several hours. We made it across IL and just into Iowa, parking at a rest area on I80 in Bettendorf for the night. I was coming down with a cold, we were all completely wiped, and crashed hard.