Adventures in Travel

Beauty is only skin deep the old maxim says, while ugliness goes right to the bone. Stupidity, though, knows no bounds. In travelling one never ceases to be amazed at the stupidity of those we encounter. I must admit that I've not seen too much of it in action this trip, but it frequently manifests in situations in which an Anglo encounters a non-Anglo. If one speaks LOUDLY and E-NUN-CI-ATES, then surely a non English speaker will, after much frustration on both sides, understand what one is attempting to get across. A few simple phrases in a foreign language are often helpful. All one really need say in almost any situation is "This is not what I ordered," and "Where is the bathroom?"

Before leaving Ouray yesterday morning and attempting the long treacherous trip through the Rockies, I had a nice chat with my innkeeper. She checked me in and was quite lively. When I checked out she had her cat, which made her even more charming. She related some of the better things she'd heard over the years. One can only imagine what an innkeeper must get. Her favourites: "What is the date when you turn off the waterfalls?" (Ouray is surrounded by jagged mountains and lots of waterfalls). "At what elevation does a deer turn into an elk?" (She swears these two are true). There's also the frequent exclamation "We saw a deer yesterday....IN TOWN!" (Apparently Bambi didn't know that he's supposed to stop at the city limit sign).

What is most frightening about these comments is that they all, I'm assuming, (she didn't indicate otherwise) came from adults. In all likelihood these adults had been schooled through the 12th grade. How do these abberations pop up? What makes one think that the deer and the elk are really the same species? Why does one think that the Great Outdoors is really a glorified Disneyland, complete with magical fountains? I'm sorry, but there is such thing as a stupid question.

At any rate, the trip was harrowing, but I had tunes to listen to and sing along with, which helped. I made one error, though, in describing the San Juan Skyway: As it turns out, the road is twisty and narrow, but there is no guard rail. And when one is at 10,000 feet what, really, could a thin strip of aluminum do? There wasn't much to see because the cloud cover was so low (or, more accurately, I was so high -- altitude wise). It rained a good bit of the way and the trip took about 6 hours, including a few stops for bathroom breaks and fuel (as much as $3.25 in places, so Atlantans, hush!) The meadow where Patty and I took pictures in the snow was largely bereft of frozen precipitation this year, but I think it had more to do with the rains than any warming trend. If anything it was colder this year. The lowest temp I *remember* seeing from the car thermometer was 49 degrees. Damn cold, especially in the rain. I did take a couple of pictures along the way which I'll post later.

I made it into Santa Fe, where they had an AMAZING thunderstorm. I was glad that I had resorted to laziness and had driven the 1.5 miles to the restaurant instead of walking. I would have been caught right in the middle of it. Stay tuned, true believers! More to come.