I said the last of my goodbyes yesterday, to Misty, and to Dad & Kathe. It didn't strike me until I'd gotten back on the road, that those were the final goodbyes, that from here on out, I'm solo.
I ended the day outside of Clifton, CO. I wasn't terribly pleased not to have made it out of CO, especially considering I'd taken the route I hadn't at all wanted to take (I-70 west from Denver). I've taken this route before, and I wasn't pleased with the results. Somehow, the last time I drove this way, I also got a late start, and was also driving a vehicle ill-suited for mountain driving. The last time I drove this route, I found myself late at night on the western edge of CO. The map told me there was camping nearby. The signs on the freeway told me there was camping nearby, but several times I looped through the small town surrounded by gusty buttes, and I never found the camping. I spent the night in the creepiest motel ever. I left as soon as I awoke in the morning. History was in the process of repeating itself yesterday, I may have looped through that same small town, looking for the same mythical camping site, but instead, I headed toward to a campground I knew existed 30 miles back.
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