Sunday, 20 July
I got me two theories on how I got to that mystery camp Friday night. One involves an alien abduction and the other somehow involves the CIA and black helicopters.
So yesterday mornin’ I tried usin’ all my Injun trackin’ skills and looked for a trace of my Toyo’s comin’ into that camp so I’d know which way to turn to find town. But the ground was too hard … and there just weren’t none to be seen. So I went downhill. Immediately ‘round the first bend was a cattle guard for the National Forest boundary. Thus the barb wire fence behind my camp. So I was indeed in a legal campin’ spot. Thanks for that to the aliens/CIA. So I go 2 or 3 miles down a twisty, washboard dirt road that was single lane in spots. Don’t recognize a thang. Truck headin’ the other way pulls up next to me and hollers my name. Must be an alien/CIA type. Nope. It was the gentleman that left me the note on my truck. Real nice fella that’s got the same camper I got and was out campin’. He graciously confirmed I was indeed headin’ towards town. Then hit blacktop and went a few miles thru a residential area. Don’t recognize a thang there neither. Then hit the main drag for a mile or two and get back to that big-ass parkin’ lot where I last remember bein’. Perfect. Let’s try this again. Maybe without the tequila this time tho.
But before I parked the truck there, I went to top off the diesel tank at one of the two gas stations in town … and the only one with diesel. Which was also a True Value Hardware store so I bought some flashlight bat’ries. And they also had lottery tickets so I had ‘em run my ticket to see if’n I gotta go back to work. It’s a winner! But only 2 bucks.
So back to the big-ass parkin’ lot and off I go again on foot. This time I head up the left side of the street. The main drag here ain’t called Main Street. It’s called Elk Avenue.
Into a bookstore I go for a guidebook. Which plainly states that my junk ain’t got no bid’ness at all on the pass over to Aspen … which is exactly what I had in mind. Oh well. Time for a beer then.
Crested Butte, CO is a drinkin’ man’s town By Gawd. A fella just ain’t gotta walk far from one waterin’ hole to the next. Although there are many fine examples, one of my favorites was The Eldo Brewery and Taproom. ‘Cause it had phenomenal upstairs patio deal for drinkin’ and watchin’ the folks mill about on the street below. Some really hot mountain chicks here. And lots of Benz’s and Beemer’s with bike racks. Mountain bikin’ is a huge deal here.
Another really cool place is Kochevar’s Saloon and Gambling Hall. Restored to its original state and has some really cool stuff on the walls includin’ the original roulette wheel and slot machine from the late 1800’s. Neat place.
Which then put me back to Bonez.
… and the wall of tequila behind the bar.
Evidently the manager weren’t feelin’ too well and had called in sick. But the young barmaid was a trooper and was waitressin’ yesterday. So I sat at one of her tables and had a dozen or so beers. I think she likes my Tony Lamas.