From the Desert to the Front Range

About a 14 hour run in 21 hours... 16 hours on the road... and 'bout five hours trying to catch some sleep. Two hours just south of Santa Fe and another three just below Pueblo.

Fine accommodations too... though at 20 degrees or so... you tend to leave the rig idling.

It rained good and hard the night before I pulled out. I lay there in the dark thinking; "Grrrrrrreat... I'm parked in the Arizona desert clay... maybe 400 yards from clear pavement. This could be fun."

So unable to sleep any longer I was up around 4 after working into the evening to finish my leather "Project"... to get the rig ready to pull out...

Long about 9:30 with the truck in four by... and sliding and wallowing around in the greasy muddy "road" I waddled that quarter mile dragging something close to twenty thousand pounds through the muck and mire of the trail...

With no real issue (but a couple of held breaths) made it to the highway for the quick ten mile run into the yard in Wickenburg where I left the rig... then dieseled up, coffeed up and turned the windshield north for Denver...

*Chasing the storm*

The storm had pretty much passed but even though I was running slow at only maybe 60 mph it was likely I'd catch it. Turned off Hwy 60 onto 74 to make the run across to hit I-17.

Snow was on the schedule for Flagstaff... and the fog just a ways south of Munds Park promised that'd be an accurate prediction...

Was slowed down to 40 just a bit farther when it thickened. I figured this would be a long slow run... but... it just didnt' turn out to be much of a thing...

Yeah it snowed... but not near enough to get much of my attention... and that Old Slow Dodge just kep' on rollin'...

I can't say I was surprised by the traffic... but I remember lots of runs across middle of nowhere northern New Mexico, in past runs, where I was purt near the only vehicle in sight... not any more. One steady line of traffic stretching back over the horizon.

I rolled through the afternoon and early evening chewing on the last of whatever edible was in the refrigerator before I shut it down. Washed down with a few cups of truck stop coffee that diesel rumbled and we kept closing the distance.

But, cross eyed and realizing that pushin' this donkey ain't gonna get me there I drug it off the road into a vibrating, rumbling rest area in the early evening and worked myself into something that resembled a comfortable position to close my eyes for as long as they would.

Well, the thermometer was reading like 22 degrees or some such. Being as how that old truck ain't insulated, it didn't take too awful long for the heat to leak out of the cab... which required firing up that cummins under the hood after about an hour to produce some more of it.

With about two hours of coppin Z's to refresh the spirit I set off in search of another cup of bad truck stop coffee...

That got me to more diesel in Raton and another rest area by Pueblo about three in the A.M. Got three hours there alternating between walks through the brisk early morning to exercise the state's plumbing and nice cozy sleeping, curled under my coat with the diesel rumbling 'bout half the time.

Colorado Springs welcomed me with it's traffic and badly freshly rebuilt roads ;) with Sunshine sparkling on the frosted trees! ... and that got me to the end of the run... with what diesel pesos were in my pocket fully spent... and yet a half tank left in the truck!

To welcome me back... Denver graced me with a half inch or so of snow the first night which reminded me... I don't miss winter. Not even a little bit.

Chilling in Denver... Again.
Brian