I sort of got holed up in Salida a little bit. I did make it to the post office on time to get my box and was grateful to receive a birthday card from some friends in Kansas City (thanks to Kim, Nathan and Dan!) with one of those prepaid visa cards. But somehow I messed up my drop boxes and got the wrong maps. Frustratingly, I’d been buying maps I already had in boxes that were to come later. Most people don’t find the need to use maps on the CT, but I think maps are neat little things and what’s more they give me the option of using different trails to get to the same destination. Additionally, I was hoping to do a cluster of 14ers that were pretty far from the CT, and certainly the maps would be useful for this.
My first night in Salida the hostel was full, so I set up camp on the other side of the river (the Arkansas River) near the railroad tracks where the Sangre de Cristo mountain range sort of begins. I’d been pretty good at keeping in touch with folks on this trail as I wanted to let them know I was okay and doing fine and was actually alive. I went and had a calzone at the pizza joint in town where a nice hippie-artist guy gave me a cookie, and then I did a little wandering and was just taking it a little slow. I found some postcards then had an ice cream place at the ice cream place, sat on a bench in front of it to eat my Huckleberry Ice Cream and write my postcards, and then got a call from Monica and Ben (from Manitou Springs) who told me that they were not too far away as they’d been fishing that day and said they were wanting to come into Salida to hang out before heading back to Manitou. What could be better?
We met at the ice cream place and wandered around the little town and ended up going back to the pizza place I’d already been to and then we ate a lot of pizza and breadsticks and had some beers. I told them how the trip was going so far, how it was really only about half done and they told me about their fishing trip and that life in general was pretty swell for them. It was a great summer evening in Colorado with the sun oozing down behind the hills and the mountain air being, well mountain air. It’s always great to see your friends, especially in these unexpected circumstances. I hope they all know how much I appreciate them.
We said our goodbyes and I wandered around to find a bar and have a beer. I went into this place called the Tenderfoot Tavern where the DJs were playing a very odd mix of country and techno. Not mixed together, but alternating genres every other song. All the people would get up and dance during the country stuff and then sit down during the techno. It’s a fine line and a great distance between being eclectic or just confusing. I got talking to a local biker guy named Uncle Pete who was a nice guy indeed. We were sitting at the bar which is one of those where the bartender’s work area is actually lower than the rest of the floor, and as such the bar itself is only a couple of feet off the ground. Basically your sitting on footstools. I suppose this means that someone has less distance to travel to hit the ground if they pass out while sitting there. I dunno. I had a couple rounds of PBR draws and some Evan Williams on the rocks before going back to my little camp site. It was a rough introduction to Salida, but it was all improving and I was really starting to like it.
I woke up the next morning, packed everything up and went to Cafe Dawn (the coffee shop) to do some more reading. I did some reading (yes, I’m still on Tom Jones. It’s a huge book, gimme a break), did some writing, and was just waiting around for 11 o’clock to walk over to the hostel. I saw the hippie-artist who’d given me the cookie and we chatted for a bit. I ended up talking for a bit with a woman named Maya who was a real neat gal and we discussed various mountain plants and other things. She was in the giving mood and offered me some soap that a friend of hers had made and talked about a cabin she went to a lot that was in the Sangres just north of Venable Lake. Not long after, Elijah stumbled up and I went to the Safeway around the corner to get some razors and other things. I got back to my stuff to meet Elijah, got a nice big hug from Maya and a recommendation on where to catch the next World Cup match and made my way to the hostel.
I met one of the proprietors, Kimberly, got all signed in and claimed my bunk before showering and cleaning up. I got the laundry in the machine and hung it out on the clothes line before running off to Benson’s to catch the game.
I got to there a little late but only ended up missing the first fifteen minutes of the match. I was fortunate enough to get my customary seat at the bar and ordered a beer. On my right was a guy named Tim from Australia and on my left was Katy from Louisiana. The match was great and I had one cheap PBR for the first half and then had a smoke with Katy at the half. The score was zero zero after some great play. During the second half Katy found inspiration she bought us each a shot of Jameson as I enjoyed my second beer. She’s a good chick and was staying with her aunt in Salida as she did her playing around in Colorado. The game itself went into two fifteen-minute overtimes, and what this meant was that I had to have another beer and I also got me and Katy another Jameson. Spain finally scored with about 4 minutes left to play in the second overtime (much to my relief) and all in all it was a phenomenal game! I said goodbye to Tim and Katy as the bar cleared out and thanked Duffy the bartender.
I went back to the hostel to get my laundry off the line and play some of that guitar I’d seen sitting in the communal area before going to the library to try to get some photos up online for folks to see and managed to get just a bit done before it closed.
Back at the hostel I was playing that guitar again and just enjoying some down time in a town that I was really enjoying. Very easy going with good people all around. A young couple showed up at the hostel and they were from Missouri, too, oddly enough, and there names were Brennan and Lindsay. They were out in Colorado on a trip and Brennan was into the whole fishing thing as well. They had arranged to go rafting the next day but we made tentative plans to go fishing should the mood strike us after they got back. Another dude, Johnny, was cycling across the country from San Francisco to New Jersey. A fun guy indeed.
That night for dinner I made a huge pasta dinner with spinach, tomatoes, garlic, and onions with an apricot from Lindsay and a cheap cherry pie. The bunch of us had a great evening together as it thunderstormed outside and Lindsay made microwave smores for everyone and Elijah managed to stylishly break a plate in front of everyone including the hostel owners in the main room. I had things to do the next day and was hoping to find the map I wanted at the outfitter so I made it to bed and slept like a baby does when it has the firm conviction that life is good.
The next day is mostly me just taking it easy. The outfitter doesn’t have the map I need but they think they could have it tomorrow as it’s on order. I went fishing down by the park in the Arkansas river as kayakers and other water enthusiasts played. I got a haircut at Larry and Larry’s (yes, both of them are named Larry) and ate a bunch of food. I’m feeling great, and it’s nice to have some rest before doing the part of this hike that I’ve been looking forward to the most since before I even started.
The next day the map still isn’t there so I wander all over town going anywhere I can think of that might have a map of this particular area. I hit the USGS office, the USFS office, and even Wal-Mart. Nothing! Shoot, and I’m really looking forward to leaving tomorrow. I talk to John that night (one of the hostel owners) and he tells me I don’t even need that map because I’m not missing much information. I take his word on it and make plans to split in the A.M.! I meet up with Elijah that night to hang out with this cute chick Katy who’s a vendor at various hippie concerts around the country. She’s more than a cut above the majority of hippie-types and isn’t one of those who just wants you to give them stuff. No, she’s pretty neat and she’s taking off the next morning to go sell some stuff at festival. For some reason I think she worked in textiles, but it may have been jewelry. I forget.
I get to bed late that night and get up early the next morning. Me and an older guy who goes by the name Flax Seed were getting shuttled back to the trialhead by John. I eat all the rest of the food I can’t carry with me and say goodbye to the family that’d been staying there. I can’t say I was sad to leave the hostel as I really wanted to get back on the trail, but I can say I’ll be back. That whole place is just awesome. I met more people than I’ve mentioned, but it all may come out over the course of time.
John showed up to take us to the trail and all of a sudden Flax Seed decides he needs Cranberries. Kind of odd, to think of cranberries as being a necessity. We wait outside the Safeway for ages and he finally comes out and we take off. A beautiful morning for being outside, for sure.
My goal is to get all the way to Silverton for my next stop. That’s a long way with some rough terrain. But for me the only place I might be able to resupply is in Creede and it’s a long long way off trail. Besides, I’m tired of being in towns now and just want to stay out in the woods as long as possible. My pack weighs a ton from having so much food. Yuck. And it’s going to be up up back into altitude. John drops us off and I get going.
Note: I didn’t take any pics of Salida so don’t think I forgot to post them. There’s plenty more coming up.
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