Hey, Boo-Boo—One Sandwich Short of a Picnic…

Days 12 & 13,–Thursday & Friday, Sept. 14th & 15th

We packed up and left the bright, storm-free Santa Fe Skies RV Park in the morning. We made some alterations to our plan and decided that we wouldn’t take the more Western route and go to Utah on this trip. It appears the storms are headed in that direction, and we decided to focus on getting to Wyoming—our favorite state in the nation. We took I-25 North; we had taken I-25 North once before, but only as far as Las Vegas, New Mexico. We were in for smooth roads and beautiful scenery.

The golden rolling fields, or Amber waves, as the song goes, were flanked by purple mountains majesty, clay red mountains, and occasional badlands. The farther North we went, the more beautiful and the more animals we saw; we encountered herds of antelope. Not long before the Colorado Boarder, a herd of 25-30 Elk congregated amongst a field of golden grasses.

New Mexico is beautiful, but she is ugly in her politics. While we once contemplated retiring in the majestic beauty of New Mexico, we have changed our minds and determined that the lands of Wyoming are even more beautiful and share the same types of typography as New Mexico (more on that to come in a few days), but sadly not the Cuisine of New Mexico.

So, as we departed New Mexico, the skies were crystal clear with beautiful fluffy clouds, not a rain cloud or raindrop in sight. Conversely, Colorado was grey and dreary; I don’t think we have ever been to Colorado, when it’s not grey and gloomy. There were a plethora of pine trees, terrible roads, and insane traffic. Colorado Springs had some of the bounciest roads on this trip and as much traffic, if not more, than Atlanta, with equally rude drivers. And then we noticed serious-looking storms ahead and decided to find a campground and stop for the night. We were only about 20 minutes or so from Denver. There were very few campgrounds in this area, but we found one at a Jellystone RV resort in Larkspur, Colorado. I wish we had just stopped at a Cracker Barrel or Walmart.

So, I called the Jellystone when we were about 30 minutes out and got someone who said they had plenty of spaces available and that I needed to talk to the local office, that they would connect me. Well, I tried about five times to connect to someone, but the number I was connected to kept saying invalid connection. So we decided to go there as we were less than 10 minutes away, and the skies grew meaner by the minute.

When we arrived, a charming woman said to wait in the guest services building, and someone would be there in a minute. I waited ten minutes, and not one person showed so I went to the gift shop and looked around; nobody was there. The TV in the guest services of this family-friendly RV resort was playing a reality show about unsolved gruesome murders, with detailed autopsy photos and reenactments. It seemed inappropriate for an RV resort based on a children’s cartoon. Justin continued to walk Quigley, and the woman I initially talked to finally showed up. I said we were just looking for one night to be in a spot and hooked up before these severe thunderstorms arrived.

She said you think it’s going to rain? I said, yes, the sky is getting very dark, and our weather alert said it was going to. She pulled out a campground map; they have over 500 campsites, cabins, and tent spots. I said do you have availability? “Well, let me see, how big are you?” We have a 42-foot 5th wheel plus a truck. She said, yes, let me put you in site number 176; that’s a back-in site at $48 a night. Then she said, “wait, let me put you in a pull-through at $195 a night.” ‘Did you say $195 for a campsite on the side of a highway with a train running in front of it?” She said, “Yes, but there aren’t any other campgrounds around.” I said, “You are more expensive than Disney.” She said, “Where is Disney?” I said, “In Florida,” she looked at me like Disney was foreign. I said, “I’ll take the back in for $48 a night.” She then said, “Did I say $48 a night?” I meant $148 a night. I said you have got to be kidding?” Then she told me about their fancy pools, zip-lining, mini-golf, and all the other stuff they have (some of which are additional costs). And I said, we aren’t going to use any of it; we are just pulling in for one night, eating, sleeping, showering, and leaving. Okay, let me get you a discount, she disappeared to the back. Five minutes later, she popped back, started getting all my information, and said it would be $117.00. I reluctantly handed her my debit card and verified with her that we could fit in the site she gave us. She said, “How am I supposed to know? You tell me.” I said, “I had never been here before; how am I supposed to know?” She said, okay, you’ll figure it out.”

As it had been over 40 minutes, Justin came looking for me and asked, “Are they requiring a urine sample?” I said I think we are almost done. Then, she couldn’t get the computer to accept my card, so I offered cash, but she said she was not allowed to take cash. I then said, “Can we please hurry this along? The storms are coming.” Then she started yelling at herself, “Common Rachel, you can do this, stupid computer.” Then she disappeared in the back and said, “I think it’s because the discount code won’t work when I put in your address; please give me your Colorado address.” “We are from Florida; we don’t have one.” Oh, then it’s $148 a night. I said, “Okay, the storms will be here any minute.”

She pulled out a map and asked, “How do you think you want to get to this campsite,” pointing to site 176. I have no idea, but I plotted a direction based on her map that looked okay. Finally, we are done, or so I thought. She said, “You might want to rent a golf cart; they are only $92.00 daily, and the bears have never attacked a golf cart. She told me about the restaurants; two were closed, and she started telling me about the bears they have and how someone was attacked once. I said, “Were they okay?” she said, “I don’t know, I never followed up.”

Justin and I drive to the campsite, and it’s way too small and at an awkward angle with a fire hydrant, making it so only a tiny RV would fit. By now, a few raindrops had started, and Justin pulled down in front of an empty row (mind you, the place was less than half full.). I went back in and said, we can’t get into that site, she said, give me a minute, I said, no, we are going to stay in site 33. She said, okay, Justin got the RV in the site and leveled; he didn’t even bother hooking up as the storms were coming, and we had torrential downpours all night. So we paid $148.00 for a parking space with loud traffic and an every 2-hour all-night-long coal train.

We sat inside reading the Campgrounds fold-out rule sheet. It turns out that because of the bears, they no longer have valet trash service. Then we started feeling sorry for those poor men in vests who lost their jobs. We might not have stayed if Rachel had told us the valet trash service was suspended. We also learned that should we encounter a bear, we need to scare it away, but before we scare it away, we need to ensure the bear has and knows where their escape route is. Bears also prefer people who brush their teeth and use strong-smelling personal hygiene products, so they caution campers against these things.

Turns out bears really do prefer good hygiene.

Next Stop Wyoming—the land of Cowboys.