In the middle of July, I quit my job with the Census Bureau (it was going to end in a week anyway), kissed my family goodbye, and was soon driving as a passenger in a truck hauling airbrush equipment. As the red rocks of Gallup, New Mexico slid past us, I had a sense of excitement. Going on the road on the fair circuit is always an adventure.
I don't really want to talk much about what I do for my brother-in-law, or about his business, because, well, it's his business, and I want to give him as much privacy as possible. But the funnest part of this job is seeing different parts of the country, but most especially meeting new people. I love meeting new people. It makes it all worth it.
No sooner did we get onto the Navajo Nation that we got pulled over by reservation cops - heavily armed, decked out in ski masks, Kevlar and heavily armed. They took my brother-in-law out behind the trailer and interrogated him, leaving me to sit in the truck by myself.
Eventually one of the masked officers joined me and made conversation with me. He looked really intimidating. But he was friendly. He explained that he was masked, because he was an undercover officer and didn't want anyone to recognize him. He said that the Reservation had become a major corridor for drugs coming up from Mexico, and that our vehicle hauling a trailer was just the sort of vehicle used to transport drugs. Our stories must have jived, because they let us go.
Soon we were on our way, crawling up the Rocky Mountains. We drove past Telluride and its beautiful rocky peaks. By nighttime, we came down into the Gunnison Valley, where our fair was going to be. We had decided to do things on the cheap this year, so we went commando and pitched a tent in the parking lot, slept a while, and tore it down before anyone could notice.
While in Colorado, I noticed that my sock was bloody every night. I couldn't figure out why. I noticed that I had a small hole in the bottom of my sock. It freaked me out - a diabetic ulcer. I had heard about them. Now I finally had one. I dressed it, cleaned it and bandaged it. But to no avail - it kept getting worse.
One evening, as I looked at the ragged hole in my foot, I decided on a whim to reach into my shoe. There was a staple sticking through my shoe. I had been steppingon a staple all this time and didn't feel it. It was a relief to know that the staple had caused the hole in my foot, not diabetes. It was alarming that I had been stepping on this staple and hadn't felt it.
I tossed the shoes and bought a pair of Wal-Mart specials.
The one person I should mention meeting in Colorado was Jersey. How can I mention our adventure in Colorado without mentioning Jersey? He was called Jersey, well, because he is a New Jersey native who went on a snowboarding trip to Colorado at age 19 and just never went back. He was totally laid back, and yet totally hooked on conspiracy theories.
When I met him, he was asking local political candidates what they were going to do about the chemtrail problem. He got us to look up at the sky, and I had to admit - there were some pretty strange contrail patterns in the sky. He insisted that it was some sort of government conspiracy to poison our air and kill us all.
Jersey was the coolest guy we met. He was very interesting. At the end of the fair, he offered to put us up at his cabin, which was up in the mountains above Crested Butte. We followed him up these winding roads straight up the mountain. We passed cabins with snow cats in front of them. I later asked him how he got out to get food in the winter. He told me that used a snowmobile.
We got to his cabin - which was like something out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre with its decor and atmosphere. What his cabin was - was a stoner's paradise. He broke out a bong and proceeded to fill the cabin with its aroma. Now, I am no stranger to pot. But I haven't smoked it since I was in college - and that was twenty years ago. I was really tempted, but I declined.
This seemed to set the mood for our whole trip.
Jersey grilled burgers for us on his porch that stood 16 feet off the ground, overlooking the moonlit Rockies. It was a magical night. We huddled around his laptop, watching conspiracy videos on YouTube, then we went off to bed. I slept in his loft, accessible only by ladder.
The next morning, we said goodbye to Jersey. he directed us down a dirt road that would take us quickly to the Interstate, swearing it would cut about 1.5 hours off our trip. It was one of the most beautiful drives I have been on. I will forever be haunted by the sunlight cresting those mountain tops. If I die today, I will forever praise God for letting me see such beauty. We saw deer, and we had to stop the car for several minutes while an enormous sheep herd passed us.
Soon, we were on pavement, and we headed north across Wyoming (which was more desolate than I imagined). By nightfall, we were in Cody, Wyoming. We could not find any motel with vacancy. We couldn't even find a campground with vacancy. So we pushed on to Billings, Montana.
We decided to go rebel again and picth our tent in a rest area. That went fine until the sprinklers went off at 6AM, drenching us. That was how our Montana adventure started. I will write bout Montana tomorrow...
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