Not Fat Tire (Fat tire is a popular beer), but the one that sounds like Trixie greeting the Smirket Girls (see below). Perhaps I've mentioned, smirket is Michelle's childhood word for a black cat.
Dana and Fox (in the box) after having been "greeted" by Trixie with a long, wet Snaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!
It turned out the road I was gonna camp on last night soon deadended at a ranch. It was dusk and too late to find somewhere else so I headed back up the road to where I'd camped the prev night. THIS time though I saw the sign that designated the beginning of the dispersed camping...6 miles sooner than I'd driven the night before. It all stems from the ambiguous wording that reads "NO CAMPING FOR NEXT 8 MILES (7 miles past Animas Overlook)." It's 7 miles to Animas Overlook and the dispersed camping sign -- which I missed seeing the prev night -- is a mile further. I interpreted the sign to mean you had to go 7 miles BEYOND Animas Overlook.
Then it happened. I looked about expecting to see Trixie hovering in the night sky, but as the right front of the car dipped down I realized what had happened. I came to a stop right at Animas Overlook. And even in the darkeling gloam my headlights picked out the well-placed blazingly yellow NO CAMPING HERE sign.
|Banzai, a.k.a. Trixie, having a cuteness seizure|
I whupped out the jack and other tools, put down a tarp and in less than ten minutes someone stopped to see if I needed help. I complained that my therapist wasn't answering my calls but I seemed to be coping pretty well. I thanked them and sent them on their way, changed the tire, saw the sign about dispersed camping and found a nice place.
This morning I went to the tire shop my intuition had spotted yesterday afternoon. A lady who's lived in Durango for 25 years said it's the best. She had recently bought some Nokian tires, the ones made by the Finland company that: "operates the only permanent winter tyre testing facility in the world (Wiki)." She had, over the years, been to three other places, but come back to JP's. The guy said the sharp-pointed shale cuts like a knife. Even more so I'd say looking at the irreparable, inch-long gash in the sidewall. $92.00 later -- mounted, balanced, and old one "disposed" of...out-the-door, as it's known -- and I was on my way.
On my way up to last night's campspot, before the flat (BTF), I stopped at Junction Creek Campground to see if there might be a quiet spot. While perusing the map for potential sites the C.G. host and her sidekick came rolling up in their golf cart. Beaming like a mule eatin' sweet taters, she asked if I was lookin' for a campsite. I said yeah, but I didn't like people, especially children, or dogs, or radios and slamming car doors. Undaunted, she confabbed with her partner over which sites were available and might be appropriate. Then, with ebullient enthusiasm, we went off tuh see 'em.
The first site was directly across from her 5th-wheel where I could, she said, if I wanted, charge my laptop (both batteries were down). The next, for $2.50 more, had electric...I could charge to my heart's content. There were several others, but the one that sounded the best, which she thought was available, was taken. I told her I liked the one across from her and we headed back.
By the time we pulled up to her place (it's a BIG C.G.) I'd had time to think...and realized I couldn't do it; too many children, dogs, radios, generators, people....suburb in the pines.
I gave 'em $5.00 for their patience (she said they'd put it toward their beer fund), my card, bid them goodnight and trundled off to have a flat and find the best tire store in Durango.
It's all good.