Great minds and Tootsie Rolls...

A river runs through it. Actually, it runs behind it. Just a few yards outside the door of the gathering room is the Platte River. If it weren't for the bears, I would have left the door open to hear the river. Who knows, maybe I would have slept past 4:15. I grabbed my stove and pot (the kind you boil water in) and headed to the river's side to make my morning coffee. I grabbed my write in the rain notebook and jotted some thoughts while I sipped my cup of Joe. Michelle was stirring so I made her a cup. She seemed a bit reluctant to take it, but later she described my morning brew as "amazing." I knew there was something about her I liked.

Still undecided, I sat by the river a little longer. Two young fellars walked by. One hobbled around the building while the other pulled up a chair next to me. He was full of energy and anxious to talk. He was visiting from Israel. He had finished his tour of duty with the Israeli army and had spent the first part of the summer working at a camp in Texas. He wanted to see this part of America so he chose to the Colorado Trail. His buddy had developed some blisters so they got off the trail for a day or two.

He, like Michelle, was looking to seek some adventure before settling into a career. After Colorado, he was going to go to Canada for a few days. Apparently, in order to renew his travel visa, he had to leave the country, even if it was just for a few days.  When he returns, he is going to spend some time in New York City with family and then travel to South America to extend his adventure with friends down there. I was feeling both jealous and relieved. Adventure sounds wonderful but home was becoming a temptation.

I did not want to hike alone nor did I want to give up the trail. Michelle needed to complete sections four and five. I had no desire to make that uphill grind again. I had an idea and was hoping Michelle would be interested. I told her if she wanted to knock out four and five, I would be willing to hike it backwards. We could start at Kenosha Pass and hike five then four. It was mostly downhill and I could get  the rest of four and five completed as well. She agreed and Bill gave us a ride to the Kenosha Pass trailhead.

As is his tradition when he drops someone off at a trailhead, he gives them a sign. One side says, "Colorado Trail Hikers" and the Other side says "HELP!" At the bottom was the phone number for Lynwood Park.  I think he was more worried about me. The way he saw it, Michelle would never have any trouble getting a ride. The old hippy just might need all the help he could get. I learned from even older hippies to hide in the bushes and wait for the car to stop for the good looking young one.

He broke out a bag of treats and told us to take a piece for the trail. We both grabbed a Tootsie Roll. Great minds and chocolate, it was a good sign. Bill wished us Godspeed on the trail and disappeared amongst the trees that lined the road into the trailhead parking lot. We both looked at each other and scratched our respective noggins. Where was the trailhead? A few minutes of wondering in circles, we found both the trailhead and our first trail magic.

Trail magic has its roots on the Appalachian trail. Trail angels would take certain treats out to obscure areas on the trail and leave them in conspicuous places in order to lift the spirits of the hikers.  We were both pretty excited to see what was in there. We tore into the ammo can like two kids on Christmas morning. Inside was an assortment of trail bars, ramen and candy. Although we were  excited and appreciative, we both saw the contents as just more weight. We saved it for the next hiker and made our way down the trail.

The trailhead was near 10,000 feet. There was a slight elevation gain of a few hundred feet before the descent. With storms beginning to build, I wanted to be down off the high points as quickly as possible. The first few miles overlooked the south park area. It was by far the best scenery of the trip and we had to rush through it. It only took about an hour for the storms to reach us. We moved from aspen grove to aspen grove to find some kind of cover. It seemed as though as the lightining was most active when we were out in the open. As one squall came through, we ducked for cover  amongst some pines. It started to hail. By the time I got my camera out to capture it for dexterity, the hail stopped.

We continued to move from cover to cover hoping the storms would pass. We met up with seveal hikers and travelers along the way. This was the first time I had encountered anyone on horseback on the Trail. The first gal was from California. She was traveling alone and seemed very squared away. She was followed by a well mannered pack horse. She had done the Arizona Trail in the spring and decided to ride the Colorado Trail. I would say that was a great way to spend your trust fund. It was about an hour later when we passed another gal on horseback. Michelle had recognized her from section 1 and said she was traveling alone. She seemed scattered and ill prepared. Her secondary horse was without saddle or supplies and it clearly looked unsettled. We gave her as much room as possible so as not to spook either horse. I am thinking she had a smaller trust fund.

We passed several other groups including two on bikes and some creepy guys that made my spidey senses tingle something fierce. I made sure I stood between them and Michelle. I can't be certain but I thought I could hear banjos dueling somewhere in the nearby trees. The last group we ran into for the day needed some first aid. I provided some guidance and meds and they were good to go.

It was somewhere between Dale Evans and the Deliverance twins that I began to develop some lower abdominal distress. This is a blessing I did not ask for. Painful and quasi-unproductive, my many trips to the perfect log was slowing our progress to a crawl. We wanted to make it further in on the trail but the late start, the weather and my excessive need of the two ply was putting us in range of the first camping area. We wanted to make the second.

Somewhere along the way, it hit me. I was not having any fun. The day started out pretty good but it slowly went down hill (only a minor pun intended). In addition, something in my shoulder had gone awry. I was not sure if  I had torn something or something went into spasm. Although the breathing was better, the lower intestinal track now felt like fire ants were doing a conga line in my colon. "1,2,3 kick! 1,2,3 kick! OK everybody shake your beer and open at will." The shoulder pain was just the proverbial straw.

Talking out loud, I made a comment to Michelle that I am not sure how the day went from being exited to be on the trail to I just wanna go home in 7 or 8 short miles.  Michelle must have hit a similar wall about the same time. She was done too. Once again, great minds...

We made camp, had dinner and were in our respective sanctuaries by nine. I bet you will never guess what time I woke up? I had to make my way to the perfect log before sunrise so I just stayed up (I wanted to make sue Michelle wasn't going to hack me up while I was in my tent). When Michelle awakened, we were in agreement to hike out and call it an adventure.

We got a cell signal about two miles out. Bill agreed to meet us at the trailhead. He brought hot tea and a sympathetic ear. Both were much needed. The rain started somewhere around Grant and was pounding Bailey when we got back to the hostel. We grabbed our territorial spaces and set up our gear. Thankfully we were not on the trail for this deluge, which I am pretty sure we would have hiked right into had we decide to tough it out.

When I went to register with Lyn, she had made a batch of posole (a Mexican soup that tends to taste better on cold rainy days). Despite the pain in my low lands, I ate the soup anyway. It was a simple taste of home and warming to the soul. Even though I was resigned to going home, I was still saddened.  Though there was a big part of me that did not want to go yet, I knew it was good policy.

I know how critical I would have been of someone who chose to put themselves in harms way when they had a way to correct their situation. I simply knew something was wrong and if I continued I would become THAT GUY. Smart and wise decisions can be difficult to make. I knew this was the best plan, but man did it suck. I was embarrassed, angry, confused and relieved all that the same time.

While slurping down the posole, two more joined us in the gathering room. Tim and his son Cole. They were from Chicago. They were suffering from the hiker's deadly triad: wet and cold and hungry. They had been hit with that same down pour and were soaked to the bone. It was time for them to get off the trail, warm up and lighten their loads. They too had packed too much food. I explained the shower and laundry system to them and offered up the rest of my posole. Cole put a quick end to it.

Once dried and warmed up, the conversation eventually made its way to the idea of a cold beer. I told Tim I knew just the place and such a libation might lift my mood a bit. I was still bitter but willing to sit and talk about life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness over a tall cold one. Michelle decided to stay and get ready for the trip home. Sometimes, being alone is the best medicine.

It was not too far of a walk to Mad Jack's brewery. The three of us walked down in the intermittent drizzle and made our way into the brewery. Cole won the award for the best line heard during my adventure. As we were walking and talking, I asked Cole what he wants to be when he grows up? He stated he wants to be a lawyer. I gave him my condolences and he looked at me kind of odd. He went on to tell me he was doing an internship at a local law office in the town where he was going to school. With excitement and enthusiasm in his voice he says "I really enjoy working there. I am learning a lot and everyone loves lawyers."  I told him he might want to research that last premise.

Shortly after, we made our way into Mad Jack's. It is a small unpretentious place with a staff that immediately made us feel at home.  There was a group of not quite a dozen gathered around several tables that had been put together to accommodate the size of their group. We ordered and found a table by the big sliding garage type door. Well out of the rain but open enough to make it feel like we were outside. The group was singing to Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin in an impromptu quasi karaoke sing along. I was thinking they may have been there a for awhile. It was just a hunch.

As we were leaving, we met the brewmaster. He bent our ears for about a half hour talking about his passion. He too was from Chicago, so he and Tim knew some of the same haunts. I loved his passion for the brewing process. It made me want to learn about brewing my own. After awhile, the rain began to drip a little bit so we all parted ways. The brewmaster went back to work, and Tim and Cole needed to secure some supplies and pick up some boxes to mail extra weight back home. I went the Conoco to get a bag of potato chips. I had been Jonesing for some ever since I met up with the Aussie gal on day three.

I chatted with my lovely bride while I perused the chip aisle looking for something salty with vinegar. The best I could do was sea salt and black pepper. I grabbed a diet Pepsi and made arrangements to fly out the next day. The cheapest flight was the last flight out of Denver, so I had my bride book it for me.  I headed back to the hostel. The rain started to come down heavier as I made my way back. The fire ants decided they needed to do another conga line in my colon so I had to walk that funny walk all the way back. Indoor plumbing can never be overrated.

Michelle had secured her flight and it looked like our flights were within a few hours of each other so that would help with arranging ground transportation back to Denver. I made tentative arrangements with a gal that Lynn uses for such issues. With everything set up for the next day, we decided to watch a movie. We perused through a decent stack of VHS tapes and found Medicine Man with Sean Connery. Michelle hadn't seen it and I did not mind watching it again. Shortly after we started the movie, Tim and Cole came back from running their errands. They lightened their loads and boxed up a few boxes to send back home. I encouraged them to send their French press back and keep my pour over. It would save them a few pounds. They agreed to take that and my bear spray. Tim was out of compliance with mama's wishes for him to have some bear protection. He was just going to take a photograph of  my can and send it to her. He decided to go ahead and keep it. For some strange reason, the airlines tend to get a little sideways when you bring an oversized can of pressurized irritant on board one of their sealed tubes. Either way, it was no longer any use to me. But it sure would have been some cheap entertainment to watch that sucker go off in the cargo hold.

After the movie was over, we all sorta got spontaneously quiet and settled in for the night. As would be expected, I tossed and turned all night long and had a brief 4:15 wake up but fell right back to sleep. I was the first one awake, so I did a quick head count to make sure Michelle had not chopped up anybody while I slept. We were all good. About six, I got a call from my long time cherished friend. She offered to come get us, but she needed to be back in Strasburg by early afternoon. Michelle and I packed our things and made our way to the Conoco, which was our designated rendez-vous point.

I had just enough time to waddle down to the Cutthroat to get a breakfast burrito and a cup of coffee to go. I hadn't made it back to the Conoco when a red Ford pulled up and offered us a ride. Although it had only been a week, it was good to see her. We loaded up our things and made our way back to Strasburg. I had not been there in nearly a dozen years so we got the fifty cent tour. Not much had changed. After we helped with some chores around the house (no one rides for free), we went for lunch. We went to a busy little hole in the wall called Corona's Mexican Grill. It was phenomenal.

From there, we made our way to the airport and waited for a respective flights. Michelle's flight left first. We continued our wide array of topics to discuss which now included religion and politics. We are opposite sides of the fence politically but close enough to the middle that we could easily agree to disagree.

As far as religion goes, we had a gentle discussion but are not too far off from what we believe. After several hundred laps around the concourse, Michelle's flight was lining up. With an awkward hug and a genuine appreciation for our short lived friendship, I bid her adios and wished her the best in life. She will go far.

I had an hour to kill so I grabbed a beer just before last call and put my Write in the Rain journal to good use. I had a lot to say. Most of which are in the blogs. It was not too much longer until this journey came to an end and I boarded Southwest flight 126 bound for Phoenix. This was the end of my epic journey, or was it? Just sayin'...