I may have mentioned that I woke to a lovely surprise after my stay in Glenwood Springs. The previous day had been sunny and in the low 80s, so when I opened the windows and looked out, I was a bit stunned to see this:
Luckily, the roads were still pretty clear, so driving through it wasn’t so bad. In parts, the light dusting of snow on the road was being blown back and forth in this wave-like, hypnotic pattern. Had to look away before I became dangerously mesmerized.
I couldn’t really tell you when the snow gave way to wind, but as I made my way south, the mountains gradually flattened out until I found myself driving what looked like an endless straight road through grassy plains. The wind was strong enough that I had to fight the wheel to keep the car in my lane.
When I finally made it to the Great Sand Dunes, I looked it up, and sure enough, there was a major wind storm happening in the area. The walk out to the Dunes was fine, but on the way back, I literally couldn’t take a step until the wind tied down. And even then, I had to pull my hood down over my face to keep the sand from polishing my face into a smooth, featureless river stone.
Had decided to stay in nearby Alamosa for the night, and I’m glad I did! Found a book I’ve been searching for for ages in a little local bookshop, and the room I booked was one of the neater ones I’ve stayed in, lots of brick walls and wood. And unlike most motels that offer a free breakfast, theirs was a voucher for a free meal at the restaurant next door, which was FAR better than the usual fare of stale muffins and bruised bananas.
I had a hard decision to make that morning as well. And after a long, soul searching look in the mirror, I decided the Fisher-Price My-First-Mustache had to go. And yes, I know I’ve made that joke before, but I don’t care, I’m double dipping!
There are few feelings I find more gratifying than clearing away itchy stubble and hairs. Almost worth letting it grow out (as much as it does) just for the feeling of shaving it away.
Had a fair bit of driving, and some particular thinking, to do the next day, so I turned in early. Next stop, Santa Rosa, New Mexico.
Where’s George? 