In Colorado now

August 15
The drive seemed shorter than it did in July, and the intended route through Pawnee Buttes remains untraveled. Again the truck's spark-plug wires failed- east of Limon- and I dared not make the risk of becoming stranded before I was able to make it to Shadowcliff where I was to work in only two days.

The skies had been dark for a while at the time I exited 70 to climb over Berthoud Pass and the loud music deafened me to the weary scream of the engine, or just distracted me from it's nerve-racking 4000RPMs on my way to 11307 feet. Arapaho bay was my stopping place, though it was sure that I wouldn't arrive there until after 1am.

...Through Winter Park and into more familiar territory as I found myself to be the only moving vehicle in Grandby, just a few miles south of the damn' (Dam) turnoff. I slipped into spot number four as quietly as I could and made a fire and a bite to eat. My eyes quickly straitened and I regained my hearing- a second wind, it seemed- at least until I tried standing an hour or two after the start of my rest near the fire. I made a sloppy 3am camp next to the truck and was out.

A lonely campground host met me on his way around the drive- I had packed up camp by 5:30 and took a little stroll myself. The air was not too cold, but a heavy mist and a few seconds of rain had the place lookin' a little miserable. "Mornin, Kansas!" The old man had identified my licence plate and told me about how the number of moose sightings had dropped dramatically since the rains stopped in June. He had hoped to find one on such a wet morning as this, but had seen none in two weeks now. I learned that he and his wife were visiting from Texas for the season and intended to travel closer to home when the campgrounds closed. The man was very nice- he asked me if I was hungry and suggested the small bakery in the campground for his favorite warm Blueberry Muffins. Upon the close of our conversation, however, I chose a hike around Monarch Lake instead.

I first noticed that things appeared incredibly dry, despite the moist air. One island in the lake was a peninsula, creeks were shallow and I found no mushrooms. The old steam-donkey was a pleasant side-trip from the path- Some parts of it were especially interesting with the gloss of dew and rain. Flowers on the trail- the dominant Ox-eyed daisies- were blue-tipped. I suspected herbicide, but the blue was also on the vegetation around the flowers. A ranger approached me on the trail and asked where I'd been and what I was doing in something of a demanding tone. I answered and gave my own interrogation: "Whats with the blue?" He told me that the NPS had sprayed the daisies on Tuesday and then left without a smile- I completed my 3- or 4-mile orbit around the lake and spotted some blue in the sky. It was then I realized that i had come upon no precipitation since the steamer, only 1/3 the way around the lake. Things were looking beautiful! Grand Lake brought a smile to my face, but the truck wasn't doing so well. It was good to see my friends again, and I was excited to get started.