|The beautiful red cliffs above the Roaring Fork River near Glenwood Springs, Colorado|
Well, I'm back in Colorado, lost as usual, looking for a new rig. Not so easy when you're on a tight budget and can't pull anything over about 5,000 lbs. and would rather just tent camp but are getting too stoved up. But I've always liked challenges.
|Cemetery Rapids from above|
I met a new friend today, a fellow who has a beautiful house right above the Roaring Fork River. In fact, he can look down on the infamous Cemetery Rapids and watch the rafters flip their boats, though the season's about over.
My friend is 84 and once worked at the Athena Missile Launch Complex in Green River, Utah, a place that's now a ghost of itself and where I often go to walk the dogs when in that area. Never know who you're going to meet and what they might know, so always be prepared!
He was able to answer a number of questions I had and is sharp as a tack at age 84. The complex launched Athena missiles to White Sands during the mid-1960s and 70s.
Last night, I reverted to the days when I enjoyed a good live band, something you don't hear too often out in the desert where I usually hang out. I was invited to go hear a local group at a practice session.
They're kind of a mix of blues and Grateful Dead, and I really enjoyed hearing them, especially their conga drummer, who was quite good.
I will admit to being surprised during the break when I thought I smelled a skunk and remarked on it, only to be told one of the band members was smoking pot (not the conga drummer—if anything, he was on caffeine).
I started looking around, kind of wondering when the cops might show, when I realized it's now legal here in Colorado. I've never been into drugs or alcohol, but I had a few friends who smoked pot in our youth. I never thought I'd see the day it was legal, and I don't recall it ever smelling like a skunk.
It for sure made me feel kind of old.
When I was in Logan, Utah with my brother, we ate at the Beehive Brewery, which I thought to be kind of an oxymoron in the Beehive State, probably the reddest state in the Union and full of Saints, who don't drink (at least not that I know of). Picturing a beehive sure doesn't go with picturing someone who's had a few beers, as bees are supposed to be industrious. Of course, I've never seen a beer-drinking bee, so I could be wrong there.
All the Brewery served was 3.2 beer, but one could buy a bottle of Moab Brewery's best (6 percent), though you couldn't drink it in the restaurant. The price? $15 a bottle.
I dunno, but it seems if one likes being in an altered state of conciousness, maybe Colorado's the better deal. I have no idea what pot sells for, but I bet ounce for ounce of altered conciousness, that beer is more expensive.
Unless your altered state is brought about by viewing redrock, which mine seems to be, which is free—and there's no bad after effects the next morning, which should be worth something.