The sun suddenly seemed a little low in the sky as Forrest and I dawdled in Ouray, trying to force upon each other the remains of the richest cafe mocha the world has ever produced. After heated debate, I ate the whipped cream, he drank the chocolatey soup. Testing out the new roles of marriage starts with sugary self-sacrifice. Hello, muffin top.
Eventually we consulted our watches. Then we shrieked.Then we set out at a considerable pace into a giant storm as we nervously contemplated a night of camping in Grand Junction, which we otherwise referred to as Junction City or Grand Thingy or The Campground at the Junction and every other combination and permutation imaginable; for I assure you- that name cannot be committed to memory.
We dodged cloudburst after cloudburst til we eventually got suckered into the torrent of rain that took us all the way to our KOA campground. Rather fortuitously, our campsite was located about 100 meters beyond the last raincloud of the day. We pulled into our spot which was framed neatly by a rainbow- and I challenge you to name a better welcome than that!
Doing as all weary campers must- we grudgingly erected our tent, explored the facilities,built a fire, got annoyed with each other by some trivial matter or other, then made up over a glass of wine and a cheese sandwich.
Soon it was bedtime, even sooner it was morning, then the requisite: 'Where's the bug repellent? Where are the clean t-shirts? Yes, you are having a shower, the coolbox needs ice, we're running out of milk, no I don't have the car keys, where did you put the camera? Our bleary-eyed confusion played out like a cartoon strip, until after quite a scramble we were on our way again. Westwards, via Colorado National Monument for our first (of many) big rock sightings. John Denver CD at the ready.