“Flee all time and she’ll find you swift enough.” – Old Sean
Canyon-Bound
After our recovery period in Denver, Ari and I made plans to drive back south, slowly winding towards Texas.
First, we grabbed four cases of our favorite beer, a delightful little local brew known as Tangerine Cream, which has a distinct, light and smooth flavor.
When this was completed, we began a slow, construction-stalled drive towards Colorado Springs, eventually turning up a deep canyon known as Phantom Canyon.
This area has some of the most excellent dispersed camping sites in the state, and a very navigable road to boot. We spotted a fox slip off the road as we wound through the cliffs.
Ari and I lounged in folding chairs as we watched the night sky, nearby mountains framing the flicking, starlight specks in a jagged bowl while warding away light pollution from nearby cities.
We popped open a pair of Tangerine Creams as we watched the heavens, taking special note of the fabulous shooting stars that sputtered and flared in the stratosphere. It was a stunning way to end a day.
The rest of our night felt slightly wearying however, since the nearby road was clearly audible when something walked on it, small stones crunching loudly. We clearly heard a large bodied animal lurking noisily across sanded grounds, likely a bobcat judging by the gait. Additionally, the wall provided occasional rockslides which tumbled toward us in the dead of night. These unfamiliar soundbytes pricked my ears considerably, though we were safe from anything in the center of our clearing but the most excessive rockslide.
Dirt Road Rise
The next morning, Ari and I prodded around, working our way up cliffs, past cacti and down thin offshoot canyons. Our campsite in Phantom Canyon was defined by bright-hued stones with veins of Mica causing specks of light to flair in every direction. The canyon is apparently a very popular rock-climbing area, as numerous climbing points and holds had been drilled into sheer rocks.
Ari and I packed up swiftly that day; hordes of gnats hummed around us, never actually biting but getting close enough to be uncomfortable.
My poor ear was constantly vibrating with buzzes. Despite this, the canyon was still quite charming, including very tiny, hardy, wild watermelons stubbornly swelling on the rocky ground.
Our return from the canyon brought us to Coyote Den Coffee in Penrose, where bacon burritos, cinnamon roles and a unique apple frozen slush made up my meal.
At this point, both Ari and I could feel a tug on our souls telling us to wander home. We were both prepared to finally return to Texas for some rest, but in a final hurrah, we pushed once more for a few more en-route experiences.
Gap in the Ground
Driving back West slightly, Ari and I drove to the Gorge, specifically walking around the Royal Bridge Gorge of Colorado. A nice feature with this area included a secondary gem and stone mineral shop complete with a water-earth sifting experience out back.
At this point, we considered pushing towards the Great Dunes of Colorado, but our energy had essentially bottomed out where further hiking was concerned.
So it was here, in the grandly rugged curves and spire of Colorado stone where we made our final major turn, wandering back to Texas in a whopping twelve hour drive.
Of course, distractions were fairly immediate. We stopped at the truly odd Mountain Wookie shop in Canon City. There were lots of unique pieces inside, including knives, one-of-a-kind caps, smoke shop equipment and generally humorous attire.
When we finally managed to move on, we followed route 50 for hours.
Final Stretch
The most notable portion of this drive was, almost surprisingly, in Eastern New Mexico. The land was compressed into beautiful rolling hills with occasional jags of dark, nearly geometric stone diversifying the peace with stunning crags of black.
Cows grazed in enormous, placid numbers, and jack-a-lopes sprung across the fields, often melding with the herds of cows. Entering Texas banished this scenery, but it was a uniquely beautiful section of the country, nonetheless.
Instead of remaining in Texas, Ari and I sliced across the panhandle, eventually cutting into Oklahoma. We had, for this trip, remained slightly under-budget.
Our fallback with this money was used to play at Choctaw Casino for a final hurrah before returning to Texas. We armed ourselves with double sanitation masks, disposable gloves and hand sanitizer, all while purposely hanging around the emptiest part of the casino.
Luck o’ the Irish
I put my remaining sixty dollars into a game with lots of lights and colors and foxes and chickens, which eventually resulted in a nice little sum of 200 dollars or so.
My luck, of course, shifted and by the time I was back to one hundred and ten dollars, I cashed out and called it a night. A swarm of bats shrouded us as we left and we rinsed the pungent, straight-vodka-smelling, hand-sanitizer from our hands in the outdoor fountain before leaving.
And that’s the show.
Once again, after a long loop of the planet or country, I find myself docked in Texas, fighting off drooping eyelids and carefully considering what I’ll do next. I’m too tired at the moment to think clearly, and the day thus far has been defined by unpacking, laundry, vacuuming the car and obtaining a brief break while watching Shrek.
I currently only have the haziest of plans for my next steps. Due to the people I’ve interacted with on this trip, I’ll be essentially quarantining for the foreseeable future while America continues its failing grapple with COVID.
Until I can glance at horizons again,
Best regards and excellent trails,
Old Sean
Written August 14th 2020
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I bought this Horizon Hound Trek Blanket for a late-autumn trek in the United States. Since then, it’s gone everywhere with me. The blanket is lightweight, stuff-able, warm and durable. But my favorite features are the buttons. The blanket can be buttoned up the sides, turning it into a long thermal poncho when I don’t want to leave the warmth of my bed.
