We crossed into Colorado around 8:30, heading for Camping World -- another place to spend money! Our campground last night was pretty disappointing. They are getting ready to close for the season on October 15, and it sure showed. The place where we are tonight, Elk Valley Fly Fishing Shop and RV Resort, is much nicer.
The funny thing about this place is that Elk Valley really is a valley, but the elevation here is over 7000 feet!
Denver is large and sprawling, it took us about 45 minutes to drive through the middle of it on the interstate. Highlight was, of course, Mile High Stadium.
I think Ron is getting tired of driving, he finds it quite stressful, especially after the incident yesterday. I wish I could help and drive some, but I’m nervous about getting into a situation where I don’t know what to do. Ron is much better at this stuff than I am.
The countryside in Colorado is wide open, but always to the west and the south you see the Rocky Mountain. The further south we drove the scenery became more hilly, covered mostly with evergreen trees. It is really a beautiful state.
When we drove through Colorado Springs I remembered that I was once here as a child. My parents, Grant, and I visited the Grand Canyon, the Petrified Forest, Mesa Verde National Park, and then met up with my maternal grandparents in Colorado Springs. My Uncle L.D. (the one who now lives in Illinois and is around 100) was living here then. I remember a couple of things about the trip. We went to see the Garden of the Gods, a nature preserve displaying many varieties of local plants and flowers. Then we drove to the top of Pikes Peak. It was a very tense drive for my mother, as it often was with my father driving. A windy, steep, narrow mountain road, with many switchbacks, cliffs on one side and sheer drop-offs on the other. Grant has always said that he’s sure our dad had an angel driving with him, because he wasn’t the best driver on the road, yet he always made it through.
After we toured Colorado Springs we brought my grandparents back to Los Angeles with us. I was thankful that we were in the old Mercury station wagon my dad bought for hauling my harp around, because it meant I didn’t have to sit in the back seat with my grandfather; instead Grant and I rode in the “way back.” I loved my grandfather dearly, but he chewed tobacco all the time, and always traveled with an old coffee can to spit into -- disgusting.
As we sat here late this afternoon a thunderstorm started brewing over the Sangre de Cristo mountains. Fortunately it passed us by to the southeast, but it did leave behind a beautiful rainbow.
I’ll be so glad to get to Santa Fe tomorrow -- we’re staying there for 3 nights, so Ron should have a chance to get a good rest from driving. And then it’s only 2 more nights until we reach Las Vegas.