Publisert: 10.06.2018
28.05./29.05.2018 After setting up our camp in Rawlins, in southeastern Wyoming, the previous evening and being close to the Colorado border, we headed, of course, to Colorado.
About Rawlins, it is worth mentioning that there is or was a prison in this (small) town, not far from our campsite. Wishing you a pleasant sleep. It was very, very windy throughout our stay. Jim Bob and we were shaken up quite a bit. What we didn't know is that southeastern Wyoming is in the 'flight path' of tornadoes (I don't mean the old combat aircraft of the Bundeswehr, but rather wind funnels. Big wind funnels. Lucky us, we didn't see any. But it was close. A week after our stay there, groups of tornadoes swept through the aforementioned region. These ruthless gangs. Terrible terrible. As I said, sometimes you have to be lucky. We didn't really want to have any closer contact with such a natural phenomenon. Even our Fatso would have been tossed around like the cow in the movie Twister.
So, we continued our journey through the Great Plains towards the south. It got warmer with every kilometer and besides a lot of flat land, which is more or less used for agriculture/livestock farming, we got to see one or the other red rock formation. The traffic increased more and more over time. We were getting closer to Denver. I could somehow understand Bella's fear of North American city traffic. On one hand, people are always in a hurry here in North America. Even though the restrictions, if you drive too fast and get caught by the police, are quite harsh. No one cares. Always gunning it and tailgating the guy in front of you to make him realize that he is an obstacle in traffic. For the American citizen. The USA. The freedom of the world. Stupidly enough, that doesn't bother the idiots in front of the speedster, meaning me, in the least. So, they quickly shoot out of their lane and merge back in just in front of the traffic obstacle. And this applies not only to "normal" passenger cars, but also to truck drivers. The common truck is allowed to drive as fast as everyone else. So, of course, they drive 10 miles faster than allowed. Just like everyone else. 70 mph easily becomes 80 mph. Time is money, after all. And to save on fuel, the truck drivers skillfully use the slipstream of the vehicle in front of them. Ahem. Where was I? Oh yeah, exactly. On the other hand, to pick up on the point again, North Americans are bad drivers. Really bad. Since only a rudimentary test needs to be taken to obtain a driver's license (the freedom-loving American doesn't need more, everything else is socialism), you don't know anything about forward-looking driving here, which also explains the aforementioned tailgating and then suddenly braking hard when the driver in front just touches the brake pedal. To make matters worse, people here are lazy and easily distracted when they are behind the wheel. Since almost every car is equipped with an automatic transmission (which reacts rather sluggishly to commands from the gas pedal), most people don't know what to do with their right hand after a while. So, they play diligently with their cell phone or fumble around in their genital area...the car is practically driving by itself anyway. By the way, messing around probably constitutes a criminal offense in 30 states. Anyway, many cars in close proximity to you sway quite a bit. Sudden turning is also part of it. Damn it, I almost missed my exit while chatting with Mom about tomorrow's lunch. To finish the topic: It's really fun to drive here.
Anyway, we made a short stop in Denver. Our interim tenant urgently needed a rental payment certificate. And we wanted to send out another job application each. It just didn't work out with the job applications so far. Either you get appointments for job interviews that you can't keep because you're still in North America, which happened to Bella a few times. Then you wonder if the cover letters are actually being read. They're supposed to be so important. Think again. Or you get a standardized response. Yes, uh, thanks for nothing, you jerks.
After we did that, we got back in Jim Bob and continued south. Denver was not a sight to behold. Skyscrapers, run-down neighborhoods. Quickly on. About two hours later, we left the interstate and finally arrived in Colorado Springs or Manitou Springs. There we visited the selected campsite, which just had a spot left for us. But: It was warm and there was hardly any wind. Pleasant camping temperatures. Just like every day, we cooked ourselves some food, watched a series on Netflix (we had good wifi) and went to sleep. The next morning, we visited the historic center of Manitou Springs. Many colorful houses with cute little shops and a shop with many old slot machines. Very nice to look at. We also found a store that sold tin signs. We bought another one, because we still need one at home (hopefully not anymore; peeking at the interim tenant). After a short coffee, we drove to the Manitou Cliff Dwellings: Houses carved and/or built by Native Americans into the rock or under a cliff overhang. Similar ones can also be found in Mesa Verde National Park. Anyway, we looked at the interesting architecture of the whole site and took several dozen photos. In the narrow houses, mostly only 2.50x2.50 meters in size, up to 8 people apparently lived on three floors. After this little journey back in time, we drove to the Garden of the Gods. In this garden, one of the biggest attractions is a giant red rock that stands only on a small area and lives there. Until it eventually falls over because all the tourists naturally lean against it. There is also a rock formation in this park called the Hand of God. Of course, a rock that looks like a hand. At least a little bit. We drove around the park a bit more (it was just too hot to walk).
It was supposed to be a packed day, because we were far from done. We drove to Old Colorado City. An old, Wild West-inspired town was promised to us. Well, almost. We had the town. But the old and the Wild West charm, not so much. Just a little bit. After Jim Bob was once again supplied with food, we drove to the nearby Pikes Peak. At least to the base of the mountain, because to get to the top, you have to pay a hefty fee. Every year there is a race to the top of the mountain....unfortunately, we were a few weeks too early here. But we have the memories and a few photos. After we had done the whole tourist program, we continued our journey through the Great Plains. Further south. Just like in the last few days. Next stop: Vega, Texas! The Route 66 beckoned.