FRISCO, COLORADO – We awoke in Moab with a long way to go and a short time to get there. First we drove all the way back into Moab proper from Dead Horse Point State Park to return the Jeep.
Let me point out, that the Jeeping experience is an interesting one, in no small part because the big knobby tires are ‘aired down’ to better handle the terrain. That makes the whole thing squirrelly to operate. It took some getting used to, but I got it there, got it cleaned, and the owner of the shop where we rented it was really cool. He saw me at the car wash and just pulled in, told me to park it and leave the keys in it and we were done. So we got a much faster start than I thought we would.
Then we climbed. And we climbed, and we climbed on I-70 east through Colorado through some beautiful scenery, tunnels, tight curves, and two-lane construction (ugh) which set us back some, but it all worked out in the end.
It all worked out, that is, until we were about 20 minutes from our destination, and all holy hell of construction broke loose. They had us down to one lane going uphill. Naturally, all the big trucks were struggling to pull their loads, and we couldn’t get around them.
So we sat. And 20 minutes turned into 45 minutes which felt like at least 90 minutes because we just wanted to GET THERE. Then when we got to our campground we found that whoever designed the campsites was dyslexic. Not only were our hookups on the wrong side, but the whole driveway was canted the wrong way. See, most campgrounds are set up on a one-way loop, and the campsites are slanted so as you travel around that loop the site is easy for you to pull past and back into with a trailer.
Not this one.
It was slanted the wrong way.
So after much tongue-biting and tooth-gnashing, we decided we’d just drive in the wrong way with our fingers crossed, hoping not to meet someone coming the other direction.
We got hooked in, mostly, though the water pressure was too damn high (just like the rent!) and it wasn’t working for us.
We were at about 10,500 feet and I wasn’t feeling well, but gosh, the view from camp was something to behold.
While resting up after our long journey, Laurel and Ethan got their bikes out. Ethan built a ramp on the slope up into the campsite and took off like a shot, having a great time. Laurel took off, too, but she was not long for it. She fell and suffered a little road rash.
Clearly it was time for dinner.
We crossed the dam into Dillon which was an interesting experience. It appears Frisco and Dillon are very concerned about that dam because they don’t allow trailers, they don’t allow big trucks, they don’t allow anybody to travel over the dam overnight, they have security patrolling the area, and they have physical barriers installed to block you if you’re naughty.
But we went across anyway. I was so out of it from altitude sickness I couldn’t focus, but that didn’t stop me from eating a gigantic salad at Dillon Dam Brewery and enjoying one (yes, only one) beer. I have to say I was just about beered out by this point.
There really isn’t much more to tell. We paid our bill, got out, went back to camp, and went back to sleep, knowing we had another hard day of driving ahead.