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As I was anticipating from previous crossings, it was to be a day of contrasts. From flat endless plains to ragged snow capped mountains. A rider's visual feast. Before heading out it was the Days Inn breakfast, thankfully not Fruit Loops but Raisin Bran. Kudos to the backroom folks at Days Inn for sculpting a muffin looking object from a piece of cardboard. Earlier in the trip I was chatting to a visiting German fellow and was actually embarrassed as we sat at breakfast. European hotels do so much better.
As you might imagine Lamar does not have the top 15 things to do according to Expedia. Rather they say a popular place to visit are cities outside of Lamar. Not to be deterred I headed for the petrified wood gas station. You can't make this stuff up. Apparently a W.G. Brown, a lumber dealer, had the bright idea to build it in 1932 from 175 million year old wood. Should be around for a while. More inspiring was Madonna of the Trail, one of 12 statues on the Old Trails Road celebrating the role of women in conquering the west. Of that there can be no question. What was
apparent questionably, was that folks could not agree on which way the statues should face. The one I was looking at faced west which makes sense to me, but in the land of choice other compass points make their mark as well. Seems we could not agree on anything even back in 1911.
I did not make this point to the nice fellow running the tourist office who was full of details about the wind turbine blade on display - it was bloody huge - and the japanese encampment that I passed by on my way into town and would have visited except I could not face 19 miles in the wrong direction to go back and see it.
And so it was, with a head full of tourist memories, I headed out on US 50W soon to become 10W. 10W is perhaps the most Aussie-like road I have encountered in the US. Miles of straight road and no cars. I once drove a whole day in the outback of northern South Australia without seeing another car. Rather than red sand it was green flat fields. Boo spotted it first, the Great Divide appearing on the horizon. When you spend enough time alone, innate objects, in this case a 3 inch gnome with a pointy hat, become your friends and companions. Don't believe me, think of Wilson. Passing through Fort Garland on 160W was not as inspiring as I hoped, but all was forgiven whenI reached the Rio Grande National Park. Spectacular stuff. Thought about camping - for a minute - and then succumbed to an expensive motel on Memorial Day weekend in the delightful town of Pagosa Springs, . So far I have schlepped the camping gear across the country and not used it once. That must change. But for tonight it is the River Walk Inn. Living up to its name I took the river walk to the spa area where I was greeted with the smell of sulphur and a whole group of people who don't know each other bobbing around in a very limited pool of water. Not my cup of tea.
The travel Gods are surly with me. Missed most of the rain today and by some remarkable coincidence there seems to be a brewery pub near all the places where I am staying. Life is good.
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