DURANGO - JUNCTION CREEK CAMPGROUND
We should have known better. Both of us. Usually, I can blame these things on Fred but this time I was just as guilty. I could have nagged him to slow down like I am wont to do on occasion, or not started humming a little song that sounded like I was singing into fan blades which made me laugh, or not kept saying Whoa, Whoa this is crazy. But I did none of those things, I just bounced along that terrible, washboard road like it was a cheap carnival ride.
We camped for 3 nights at Junction Creek, it felt heavenly when we finally pulled into our camp spot in that way that only Colorado can feel to a overheated, parched, thoroughly sick of the heat Texan can feel when they are given a cool, evergreen scented reprieve from the death star.
My first thought after unhooking was a beer, flipflops and changing into shorts. And this is where the previous paragraph begins to make sense. I couldn't slide open the doors to the compartment over our bed that holds our clothes. At first we thought it was off its slidey track, then we thought it was just stuck so we sprayed the hell out of it with silicone spray. All to no avail. That night as I was staring up into the gap between the compartment and the window I saw the problem. Four dangling screws. Apparently, during our Mr. Toads Wild Ride up the mountain road to our camp spot the screws holding this compartment decided to completely shear off. Great, and on a holiday weekend with only one RV repair place in Durango.
We did ask the RV place what our chances for a repair were while we were in town. He was sympathetic but said no hope of looking at it for 2 weeks. Oh God, this could only mean one thing. Fred would try to repair it himself. Usually when he reaches this conclusion I run for the hills because he can get just a tad frustrated with these little projects. This is a man who has been known to consider a butter knife a perfectly acceptable substitute for most tools.
Once he mulled it over though, and we both managed to distract ourselves by watching some extreme chipmunk fighting, brought on by me "accidentally" leaving some sunflower seeds in the arena, um I mean fire pit, we decided to roll the dice and see if it would hold till we could get some old guy with a drill to fix it.
This photo captures Fred's eagerness to hit the Colorado Trail for an early morning hike. What it does not capture is the photographers eagerness to smother him in his sleep because the man has been coughing for two. whole. weeks. all day and all night. Did I mention that I brought along Nyquil, Dayquil, Mucinex, cough drops and assorted herbal teas. He won't take them. I don't think I would be convicted by a jury of my true peers, that would be other women who are trapped in a very, small enclosed space with a non-stop cougher he refuses to take anything for it.
The Colorado Trail goes 487 miles all the way from Durango to Denver if you are so inclined. We were not.
Instead of walking to Denver, we walked a mile to the bridge over Junction Creek, then turned around and came back to camper to much on Cheezits and potato chips.
Also, had a nice visit with our friends, Danny and Kathleen, and their family who recently purchased a house near downtown Durango which we hope to be using as a permanent summer vacation spot in the years to come. Just kidding Kathleen!
Had a nice little walk along the Animas River Trail that runs through town while Fred did some jogging.
We did not ride the Durango-Silverton train because we have done it twice before and even got off in the middle once and backpacked to the Chicago Basin. We were younger then. It's an all day kinda thing and we were more interested in visiting with friends and enjoying our quiet, cool little camping spot.
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