So I was headed down to Antonio Colorado by the Conejos River. I took the long way up a curvy canyon along the Arkansas River through Salida. It’s a beautiful drive coming out of Canyon City and even on the way to Canyon City. Unless you’re an inmate headed to one of their correctional institutions, but then , who is to say? Going to Salida I passed through the small town of Cotopaxi which is surrounded by high red canyon walls. Too much to take in. Sensory overload.
I got into Salida. A nice small city. I decide to make a side trip into town to see a business I knew of. World famous. Many of you know the name. A small nondescript office building on a side street. Following the pleasant voice on my phone to my intended destination, down a narrow street lined with tiny houses and small businesses, I slowed down to take a prescribed left turn. The anticipation I felt as I knew that I was getting very close. Stopping only for incoming traffic, excited to meet my goal, I felt my heart drop along with the front of my truck while I watched my front tire quickly rolling off to the right through a couple front yards, before finding a peaceful resting place. Assessing the situation, feeling lucky that no kids were out playing. No cars in the way. Life could be much worse. I made my left turn dragging my brake rotor on the ground. A couple local boys pulled up ahead of me. One pointing at the other saying” he can fix that”. It was a beautiful day in Salida. Two hours later I was going down the road. Thoroughly impressed with Salida and the residents. I did pay them for their time, though they didn’t ask. Didn’t make it to Elk Creek, bit I was exactly where I wanted to be. Spent a couple nights and did some day hikes. Postponing the nerve wrecking trip home. This week I’ll be replacing all my wheel studs. Twenty five years of abuse is enough.
It’s not the trail you take. It’s where you end up that counts. It’s all good.
