|September 6, 2016
Pueblo West, CO
Several years back, there was a gal named Pat who hiked with the "Over the Hill Gang" from Pueblo and also the Canonland Hikers and Walkers. She was a bit of a character and conversations with her were always......well, I'll just stick with interesting. One day she was talking about the horses she used to own and said one of them was "barn sour". Being a city girl from Cleveland, OH I had no idea what that meant, so she explained that's what they call a horse who always wants to run to the barn because that's where the food is.
Apparently every horse I have ever ridden (two?) was barn sour, but I just figured they kept turning around and going home because they knew I was scared of them and really didn't mean it when I tried to tug the reins and say "gee" or "haw" or whatever other meaningless command I could think of. But I know how it FEELS to be barn sour because it seems that whenever I get within 400 miles of being home, I make a run for my Burke Drive barn.
When I left Flaming Gorge yesterday at 7:45 in the morning I intended to enjoy the scenic drive (it was especially beautiful between Rangely and Loma over Douglas Pass) and then spend the night in Montrose, which was halfway home. In that way I could have an easy, Labor Day traffic-free drive home today. But heck, it was only 12:30 when I got to my destination and I really wasn't THAT tired, and all those RVs and toy haulers seemed to be going the other way, and if I stopped often enough I could work out that cramping pain in my knee. Home was so close! I decided to make a run for it and got home just before 6:00 pm.
Wanda breathed a sigh of relief. We drove 2,523 miles in two weeks, saw a bit of our beautiful country, and had a lot of fun. Thanks for coming along, and until next time, I'll be here enjoying my barn.