Thursday, July 28, 2011

RMNP serves up some humility

The sounds of air wrenches finally wakes me up.  I'm sitting in my inoperable truck next to Bob's Towing & Repair in Estes Park, CO.  I slept like shit.  The garage has several spot lights that kept the inside of the truck illuminated the entire night.  Some Hispanic business across the street had customers coming and going in loud cars all night.  I never figured out what they sold there.  It looked like there were pinatas hanging inside, but every customer walked out with a bag that sounded like bottles.  What am I doing here?
Yesterday, I started in Boulder, CO with a cup of coffee and the idea to drive through Rocky Mountain National Park and camp somewhere on the western side.  I had been in the park once before but only did a short hike at lower elevations.  I didn't really plan to hike much, but I did want to drive along Trail Ridge Road which gets above 12,000' in elevation and offers some awesome views.
Along the way to the highest point on the road, I passed a cycletourist.  He looked to be okay and was keeping a slow albeit steady pace.  I shouldn't say slow.  It's a miracle that people can still turn pedals at all up there.  I tried to put myself in his place as I had thought to ride through RMNP at one point.  When I pulled out at the next view, I noticed some gnarly looking clouds surging towards me.  I heard some thunder too.  So I waited for about 20 minutes for the cyclist to get up to where I was to check and make sure he was okay with the impending weather.  I didn't know if he would want some food or water or maybe even a shuttle over the highest points on the road.  He said that he was alright to keep riding so I continued on.
I drove down the west side of the Continental Divide and reached level ground once again whenever my truck died rather suddenly.  I think the gods (or God) might have been telling me that I would have been better off had I been biking like the other guy.  At the very least, I found the humor in it.  Finished with laughing, I found some rangers who could call a tow truck to take my truck 40 miles back to Estes Park where I had entered the park earlier.  After waiting two hours and then a pleasant two hour drive with Diana in the tow truck, I found myself at Bob's with a $250 towing bill and a probable broken fuel pump.  Probably best for the expenses if I just slept in the truck...

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