On the way to Erie CO

 A few observations on the area between Santa Fe and Erie CO:

• Hwy 285 in northern NM is beautiful and desolate
• Highway 285 north of Alamosa is one of the most boring hours of driving I have experienced
• The mountains north of that make it all worthwhile

Ended up camping on BLM land south of Great Sand Dunes National Park, one of many, although there was generous space between camping spots, and I generally am not looking for fancy when I pull up after dark. Just a place to unfold the tent, unroll the sleeping mat and sleeping bag, and have a snack before hitting the rack. In this case, I pulled out the telescope as well, and made two new friends. They were driving past, and I beckoned them over to look at Jupiter. They were from Australia and Philly, by way of Seattle. 

After our impromptu star party, they stayed and shared the campsite, only slightly concerned about me slitting their throats while they slept. Not my style, as I prefer to bore 'em to death with astronomy trivia, including my favorite, the "Georgium Sidus" rant.

The next morning sunrise was a dramatic event, as the sunlight crept up the hill from the East

There was time to visit Great Sand Dunes National Park. I was, perhaps, not in the right frame of mind to enjoy large piles of sand. Finding this majestic phenomenon of Nature boring, I tried spice it up a bit by regaling fellow visitors with tales of hikers buried in sand-alanches, their clawed hands sticking out of a dune and slowly dessicating until the winds expose them again, mummified. Not a hit. Nor were tales of the Abominable Sandman rumored to dine on visitors, the entire thing covered up by rangers who, figuring the more tourists eaten, the fewer rangers drafted to provide a meal, decided silence was the best policy.

Proof positive of the Abominable Sandman

These falsehoods were mere entertainment, I reasoned, and in no manner a major sin that would preclude receiving communion at Mass in Alamosa. Penance inflicted from above consisted of no one hosting coffee and doughnuts after Mass, so I hit the road north.

As noted before, the next hour was a mite tedious, but eventually the terrain got more mountainous and interesting. Big Yellow Truck seemed to enjoy the mountains, and the gas mileage increased. Stopped for peaches at a roadside stand.

Also stopped to see fossilized redwood trees at Florissant National Monument.

The tree fossil is the one on the left.

A stop down in Colorado Springs to refuel convinced me to return to the mountains to camp, and thus ended Sunday, setting up the tent in the dark and calling it a night.

Monday dawn brought a surprise resident to light -- a dead deer, well along the path to dessication. Usually I am pretty good at the photodocumentation, but I decided Mr. Deer didn't need a portrait. 

How wrong I was. 

Eldest and Youngest sons raised hue and cry that I did not have a photo of the dead deer. Come camping with your father next time, boys! The hills are alive with dead, rotting deer, and you will be able to feast your eyes on any number of specimens in various stages of decay. Perhaps we shall even return to that camp site -- I doubt anyone is stealing that deer.

Monday was a standard day of gorgeous scenery -- Route 67/285 is especially beautiful.

There is probably a dead deer somewhere in all this scenery

The journey ended up, as do many journeys, in Denver, where navigating the traffic gives the strange sensation of swimming in a bowl of spaghetti. Somehow, I managed to emerge on the north end, and after a stop at Costco, found myself on the welcoming doorstep of my Cousins, Ruth and Derrick.