I made it to Colorado.
Last weekend was a blur of driving: 24 hours in four days. I crossed the Midwest, had no original thoughts about the scenery, and, after a quick pitstop in Omaha, NE (that you can read about here) made it to Colorful Colorado.
Once arrived, the wheels started to come off the bus. We’d barely crossed the state border when the battery light flicked on the dash. Our mileage started dropping and we brought the van to a mechanic’s a half hour north of Denver on Monday, the next day. They suspected, as I did, that our alternator was to blame. The batteries are only a year old (an early repair) and it seemed the likely culprit, though they weren’t able to confirm it that day. They assured us we could drive it around, but about four hours later we found ourselves dead in a Petco parking lot.
My husband eked one last start from the van and we coaxed it the short distance down the road back to the mechanics. A half mile to go and chaos erupted. Every light came on the dash and the warning bell dinged constantly. Every system claimed to be failing, from the transmission to the ABS. It was a slow crawl, knuckles white from the efforts to stay calm.
Luckily, it was a straightforward fix. Our alternator was to blame and we had a new one before lunch on Wednesday.
All of this, set against the backdrop of the windy Rocky Mountains. It’s been a chilly, cloudy week with only glimpses of the truly high peaks, still capped in a white layer of snow. The foothills are beautiful but I find myself wishing for the full view, uninterrupted for a few hours.
I stopped at a dispensary yesterday and found two thrilling surprises: a deli-style selection where I could smell the flower before I bought it and watch it portioned out into my bags, and an amazing anniversary deal of $86 ounces (28 grams, for my non-American friends.)
Deli-style dispensaries are a relic of early medical markets and aren’t common in recreational dispensaries these days. The ones that do exist are out west in more established markets whereas the young markets in the east require flower to be pre-portioned, packaged, and sealed. Deli-style dispensaries allow you to see the flower, kept in large mason jars on display, examine the nug structure, see the trichomes, and even smell it before you buy – a much more sensorily satisfactory experience.
I am headed deeper into the Rockies this weekend, for a few hikes and my next destination. It is a stunning state to explore and I will hardly scratch the surface during my time here.
