Not the most original tag line, eh?
At the moment I'm in Parachute, CO, along I-70 headed east. It's raining, I'm really sleepy, so I'm pulled over at a really pleasant little rest stop (with free WiFi!) to take a quick nap. I think my day's destination isn't that far up the road; the plan is to stay at a Walmart parking lot in Rifle. It's listed in the Walmart Parking list as "OK to park." I called ahead, and after the person on the phone conferred with the manager, she said it would be OK even though there are apparently signs which say "No Overnight Parking."
Well, then. I'll also pay a visit at the free RV dump station at the Rifle rest area.
I pulled out of my spot above Moab this morning at about 8, and I've been puttering along admiring the scenery and enjoying memories of driving those roads when I worked as a river guide out of Green River, UT. One of the routes we had a permit for was a stretch of the Colorado which started just over the UT/CO border. The route is called Wastewater Canyon, and it has a few really hairy rapids: the most difficult has a couple of features called "The Rock of Shock" and "The Room of Doom," which still make me shudder, even driving safely by.
I arrived at the Willow Springs campsite just after rains which made the road a red gluey mess. The road had dried out when I left this morning, but the people! There must have been 100 people in tents, trailers, and RV's all spread out along this one short stretch of nasty dirt road, all with mountain bikes or ATV's or dirt bikes. Astonishing. Just astonishing. I was lucky to get as nice a spot as I did!
I hope they all had/are having a good time.
It was time for me to leave. I enjoyed the walks, the skies, the people-watching, the sky-watching. But it was time to go. I'm thinking that for the most part, two nights is enough if I'm on the go... or maybe not.