Day 69

The first eleven hours of my day were ordinary. I turtled in the motel bed, then went to a neighboring cafe with a voucher that came with the stay. Thoroughly acceptable food. I made sure to escape the Rockies, then settled in for another relaxing day in Pueblo. I did more puzzles. I spent more time at the library. I listened to the Bruins again.

Then I decided to park for the night. I had appreciated the ease of rest stations in Utah, so I decided to try the Colorado version. I saw the sign, took the exit, and slammed on the brakes. Closed. Ugh. Upon further investigation, the Colorado Department of Transportation deemed the cost of plumbing too high to keep the station open. I don’t need running water, CDOT, just the lot. 

I reviewed my options. The next most promising was forest camping. I set out on the interstate, drove to Colorado Springs, and forged out toward Pikes Peak. Once again, things got weird. The road was way too nice—almost manicured. Up ahead, I saw what looked like a private property gatehouse. A guard stood at attention. I chose not to become the Most Dangerous Game and left the oligarchic complex.

Scraping lower, I retreated to Colorado Springs and checked out a truck stop. It felt safe enough, but—and I hate when this happens—the overnight parking was set up in spaces with clearly marked “No Overnight Parking” signs. Everyone was doing it. Like many socially popular things, I was too anxious to participate. I almost threw in the towel and booked a hotel again, but I made one last desperate search. At last! My savior! Bass Pro Shops!

I triumphantly drove down Bass Pro Avenue, where new “luxury apartments” were being built. I cannot think of anywhere that I would less like to live than at the Bass Pro Shop complex. I am, however, very glad to stay here tonight.