COLORADO: Days 3 and 4

I arrived a bit later than planned at campsite #2: State Forest State Park, a place so nice they (almost) named it twice. This little campground had gotten good reviews online and seemed to be, on the map, just on the other side of RMNP. It is, as the crow flies, if the crow could fly over the 12,000+ peaks between there and here. For me, the trip was about 109 miles.

State Forest State Park is what might be considered the “foothills” of the western Rockies, being at only about 8,500-10,000 feet. It was a peaceful campground on a fishing lake, overlooking a meadow. The only town for miles is Walden, calling itself the “Moose Viewing Capital of Colorado.” I stopped at the Moose Visitors Center, and considered going to the Moose Overlook. But exhaustion and altitude limited my hiking excursions. Instead, I tried hanging my hammock to rest and read. But weak trees, fat human (wait – I mean full figured!), and gnatty little bugs put an end to that attempt. I did build my first campfire of the trip (I am an excellent campfire builder – one of my hidden talents). I also perfected the sleepwear formula that allowed me not to freeze my ass off. The temperatures here swing from the 30s to the 80s in a 24-hour period.

Sunday morning I went on a wildlife expedition (aka, a leisurely hike across the meadow and through the wood in hopes of seeing a bull moose). I was armed only with binoculars and camera. No moose sightings, but I did see beautiful wildflowers and got a decent video of a chipmunk.

My next hunting expedition was for high-speed Internet. I broke camp and headed back to Walden, a town in the middle of nowhere with no apparent reason for existing. Seriously, it is the only incorporated town in the entire county, with about 700 residents. I could not figure out what industry could support a town to have sprung up in this location. Surely being the "Moose Viewing Capital of Colorado" is not sufficient to support 700 people. There is definitely ranching. And there is recreation from the nearby state and national parks and wildlife refuge. I did not see immediate evidence of mining or farming. Why is this town here? 

Walden. That's it. There's nothing else

On Sunday, as I pulled in with hopes of finding Internet, there was a parade going down mainstreet, and all traffic was being directed onto side roads. It was truly a town-in-the-middle-of-nowhere parade. Smoky the Bear walked down the road (no float or even back of a pickup for Smoky). Some guys on Harleys. Some decorated pickup trucks. I headed for the public library, but it is closed on weekends. The library is closed all weekend – when people are not at work and might like to get a book or use the Internet. That’s when the library is closed.

I pushed onward to my next campsite. Sunday’s drive took me back over the Rockies, this time west to east, to a campground on Turquoise Lake, at 10,000 feet, my home for the next two nights.

CHORES

Camping always involves a variety of chores – setting up and taking down tent, packing and unpacking gear, fetching water. All of these chores are made obsolete with a camper!! I LOVE that I don’t have to unpack and repack my gear. As long as it is securely stowed inside the camper before I start driving (especially the refrigerator), I’m good to go. And I LOVE having running water!! Perhaps the thing I love the most about the camper is being able to change my clothes standing up and in complete privacy. I detest changing my clothes in a tent. I cannot stand trying to squirm in and out of pants while seated on the bottom of a tent. I hate not having privacy as I try to give myself a sponge bath. And of course, having my own tiny little bathroom, shower, and toilet is wonderful. But those amenities mean a camping chore that is new to me: the “dump station.”

There is a control panel in the camper that allows me to monitor my “levels” – fresh water and battery should be high, gray and black water should be low. Gray water is the soapy water from doing dishes or using the shower. Black water is, well… you know. I watched Cruise America’s tutorial videos and got a walk-through at the rental center, and then I asked a guy at my first campground if I could observe operations at the dump station there. Apparently there is a scene in the movie “RV” that the man’s little girls did not mind describing in detail. I wish they hadn’t.

So when my “levels” indicated that I could no longer postpone my destiny with the dump station, I was glad it was at the remote and less crowded State Forest State Park. I took my time hooking up the hose and read all the directions twice; then I released the black water valve and stepped waaayyyy back. There were sounds of swishing and water flowing, but no hoses came loose from anything. Thank God. I then released the gray water valve, which essentially serves to wash out the hose (remember, it’s my dishwater). Success! But now that I had gotten over this hurdle, I was more liberal with my use of the gray water tank (I had been avoiding overuse so that I could put off the dump station as long as possible), so now it is full again already. Ugh. Dump station, here I come.

The benefit of having Cruise America’s logo all over my camper is that it is a billboard announcing that “She doesn’t know what the fuck she is doing.” When I’m moving slowly up the inclines on the highway, or backing in and out of parking spaces, or pulling up to the dump station, I feel my newb status is self-evident. And I’m OK with that.