Grand Junction

It's interesting how this lifestyle fosters gratitude, but Thursday was one of those bizarre days where everything went copacetically.


I'd found a decent campspot north of Loma in the Fruita Desert Conservation Area; reasonably flat with no anthill or cacti. (About a mile north of the G in Grand. This map is slow to load.)

Around noon Discount Tire called to say the tire had arrived (see blogpost). I'd just completed my baaahth and was debating whether to go exploring...or not. I sed I'd be there in forty-five minutes.


At the shop an attractive woman accompanied by a small, four-legged blonde named Mr. Boots asked if she could sit next to me. She told of the delights of the nearby public pool and how she'd let her children in Oregon know she wasn't gonna be driving up to visit them anymore. She'd take the train, but they'd have to come pick her up. As I got up to leave, she introduced herself and expressed appreciation at the meeting. I reciprocated. Perhaps we'll meet at the pool.


At the Western Colorado Center for the Arts I enjoyed the exhibits of Paul Pletka's lithographs and Erin Holscher Almazan's paintings.  The lighting in the museum is unusually good -- maybe they used museum glass in the frames as there is almost no glare.

Sources offered that the Omnia Gallery was the place for contemporary work. I went looking and found a co-op gallery, but never did Omnia.

The Farmers' Market was setting up as I arrived around 4:00 p.m. A vendor advertised goat meat! Rare to find, its flavor varies far more than the bred-for-growth beef, even the organic stuff.

Their ranch was a few miles west of Montrose, she said, about an hour's drive. We talked about the slaughtering and the requirement -- if it was going to be sold -- of an FDA-certified facility. This meant the goats had to be transported...a traumatic process that, we surmised, induced hormone release that could/might affect the flavor.

She told of a customer who was coming to kill "his" goat in the meadow (sheep and cattle graze in fields....goats in meadows.); she offered to let me do the same. I considered it. Last year I'd chanced upon a freshly killed coyote on the side of the road and took its skin; my skill was still intact. But the thought of killing the goat was intimidating; I'll do in the mice that take up residence in Phoebe and the roaches one encounters indoors in Albuquerque, but I have a soft heart for spiders and most other animals.

Hotel St. Regis bar -- buy by the ounce, self-serve. I got two ounces of milk stout. Just enough to make the hike back to the car entertaining.

Mutual Friends Skateboard store is more of a gallery than a skate shop. We had an interesting conversation about how in a town of 62,500 there are, maybe, two thousand skateboarders. Of those, two hundred are serious...and of those maybe half have any money to buy boards and/or accessories. And OF THOSE maybe only 30 want what the shop offers. Thus, the analogy with a gallery. The owner has a job that provides the means to keep the shop going.

Purple Marble and Fred Ginnis at High Desert Authentique

My phone rang just as I was about to go in. Out front was one of those metal chairs with the scalloped back you'll recall from your childhood; everyone had them. I settled in and we spent the next 40 minutes catching up.

Once inside, Fred let me stroll about unmolested. Eventually we got to talking art and how he'd found a valuable piece in a thrift store and recently sold it for an undisclosed amount WAY beyond the price he'd paid.

It's a fine and eclectic collection and as I was sloooowwwwly making my way toward the door I spotted the marbles. 





Other exciting events from that day...

Dragons Milk at Fruita Liquor and free five-pound bag of ice.

Beautiful campspot overlooking the Steppe.