Slow It Down

Month Four: Slow It Down

7/5/2023

Colorado - Nebraska - South Dakota - Iowa - Minnesota

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After the action-packed first three months, we sloowwwed way down for month four and spent the vast majority of it in Colorado. We left you while we were racing the clock for planned visits with friends…

We started this month nerding out over dinosaurs.

Plate-rod combo was my initial thought on repair…

What a most excellent way to return to a state we love dearly, Colorado. The last few states were hit-or-miss on how dog friendly each town and business was so it was a breath of fresh air when we arrived in Grand Junction and pulled up to a brewery that allows dogs everywhere. *Collective sigh*

We had some van appointments in Grand Junction so we spent three days exploring the town and the neighboring town of Fruta. It was friendly, lived-in, and relaxing…except for one night where we stayed in the least ideal camping spot of the trip yet. Let’s just say we had some entrepreneurs for neighbors.

Leaving Grand Junction we accidently stumbled upon a national park. Yes, we had no idea this existed here nor had we heard of this park before. Black Canyon of the Gunnison. Say that five times fast. It was compact, super pretty and we enjoyed an epic camping spot to boot. Ten outta ten recommend.

Jake doing his thing with a camera

While I love me beer, Jake loves him some mountain biking. So we mecca-journeyed to Crested Butte where it is rumored mountain biking was invented. We settled into our camping spot, made base camp and I attempted to not turn blue at 9,000 ft. It was Jake’s turn for an injury and got “biker’s knee” (patellofemoral pain syndrome for ye fellow surgical nerds). As such, he was taking it easy on the biking and joined Leinie and me for some hiking and town exploring.

Hiking in Crested Butte

My thoughts on Crested Butte? Umm, it rhymes with rusted nuthole while using the C and B. The town was expensive and rather…pretentious. And do not get me started on the trail dog atmosphere.

Ok, I’ll start. I love trail doggos, obv, I’m a vet tech. However, want to know the number one reason I see broken trail doggos? They’re off leash. Yep, I’m that person. If Jake would let me I would hand out freebie slip leads that state “my owner is a jerk and doesn’t know what a leash is”. On this trip I have encountered sooooo many off leash dogs that have zero recall, almost nill manners, and are usually followed by the phrase, “oh, they’re friendly.” Not the damn point. Leinie is a good boy, most of the time. He is also small and is so over being bowled over by larger dogs. As such, when he feels cornered (such as on a leash while another dog, two or three surround him) he becomes reactive. Instead of an apology from the jerk owner with the poorly trained dog, I am somehow the jerk for having a reactive dog. Not unrelated, if your dog jumps on me or pushes their nose in my crouch (usually off leash) I will push them down. No, I will not say “oh, it’s ok” when you give a half-assed apology. Train your damn dog. This shitty thought mentality was ten times worse in Crested Butte than anywhere I had yet experienced. We typically keep Leinie’s dishes outside behind the front passenger wheel and have him on a lead while at camp. We literally ran out of food because off leash trail dogs would come off trail, into our camp, and eat his food. Leinie ain’t dumb and would usually hunker down in the van rather than fend off intruders who were usually a lot bigger than him. The third time it happened, three off leash dogs from a hiking party were running amok in the campsite. I told the group that they needed to leash their dogs. Their response, “We aren’t in town. If you don’t like it, you’re in the wrong place.” Come again?! You know what also happens when your dog is off leash? It shits somewhere, you don’t see (possibly don’t care) and don’t pick it up. The trails were literally covered in dog shit. It was disgusting. Ok, I’m done.

Side note, our campsite was littered with bones. It had weird vibes akin to the movie The Ritual. Venture to Crusted Butthole at your own risk. They did have pretty terrific coffee though.

Not quite my personal choice for a Xmas decoration

Moving on, we moved towards the front range and made a pit stop in Salida where we had the absolute craziest amount of hail I have ever seen in a single storm. Not all days are glamorous, some mornings you spend three hours waiting to be able to do anything.

That ain’t snow

We arrived in Colorado Springs itching to explore the front range. We hit up Garden of the Gods and one of the coolest places to enjoy a beer.

Garden of the Gods

You can actually drink in a school!

We moosied our way along the front range heading north. Jake will always fangirl over Golden and I fell hard for Loveland. But the long rest for showers, a real-ish bed, and regaining hit points was in Fort Collins. Land of breweries, trails, patagonia sweaters and Adam.

We settled right on in with Adam for a little over a week that was rather action-packed. Brewery hopping, flooded biking trails, competitive games of Cataan, and fungi documentaries to name a few.

The tramily doing what we do best…besides hiking

We also packed Adam and Leinie back into the sub for a weekend excursion in Steamboat Springs. Adam became the official first guest of the Yellow Submarine root-tent-airbnb. His reviews were raving. Steamboat was idyllic. We hit town in time for the farmer’s market, enjoyed the core trail and explored their free botanical gardens. Jake and I actually ran into Steamboat Jeff who manages a part (maybe the whole thing) and invited us to his porch to show us moose and bear videos he had. 

We ended the evening with a soak in some questionably dark hot springs that lacked showers and had a manager on a power trip. Apparently they offer clothing optional soaking after 10, we didn’t stay…

Then Adam got to experience a vagabond tradition, searching for a site on the weekend. We drove until after midnight before we ended at a site and were able to crawl into bed. The site ended up having terrific morning views and a butt load of mosquitoes.

Before we knew it, we were hugging Adam goodbye and were on our way to do some residency stuff in South Dakota. Along the way we passed through western Nebraska and stopped to enjoy Scotts Bluff and Chimney Rock. Why do those names sound familiar? Here’s a clue, they happen to coincide with dysentery and caulking a wagon to float.

The OG vanlife

Up next was a strange place called Carhenge. I get there isn’t a whole lot to do in Nebraska, but this had to have sprouted from next level boredom mixed with a healthy dose of hold-my-beer.

The vannus intermedius, the missing link between the covered wagon and modern vanlife vehicle

We continued our sight seeing as we entered South Dakota, hitting Mount Rushmore in the Black Hills, before reaching Deadwood.

Home, sweet home. Sorta. We technically are residents of Spearfish, but Lawrence County’s offices are in Deadwood. We rolled into town which was noticeably more crowded than when we came in winter and as it apparently happens in South Dakota, we got caught in stopped traffic due to a reenactment shootout. Once the gunpowder cleared we stopped in our now favorite casino Mr. Wu’s for cheapo tap beer. 

The next morning I got fresh license plates for my car. After a quick pit stop at the post office (postcards!) I attempted to get a library card, and was denied! What in the actual hell?! This is clearly the root cause for the destabilization of society. 

While I was brooding over the library card, Jake drove us to the Badlands where the mosquitoes took on a new level of demon possession. It was like my legs had chicken pox. We had a pretty epic camping spot and got hit by a crazy wind/thunderstorm that had us only slightly nervous.

Badlands National Park

We explored Badlands National Park the next day and the Minuteman Missile Site. Then it was a loooong day of driving. Originally we had hoped to make it to Des Moines in one shot but that was quickly thrown out the window when we rolled into Souix Falls at 7pm for a stretch. A walk to stretch the legs, a beer to stretch our livers, and we were back on our way to get some miles in before we called it a night. 

We made it to Iowa and our friends, Nate and Ryan the next day to kick off our Des Moines short rest (1d10 hit die). We ate, we drank, we hit up a car show where we ate and drank some more. There were breweries and the guys’ first shot at D&D. Yes, the sickness spreads.

Naturally Ryan takes the picture when my eyes are closed.

The month was winding up and Jake had some work lined up in Minnesota, so we hugged Nate and Ryan goodbye just as people were getting heavy handed with fireworks. We weren’t a mile into Minnesota when we counted three, yes three, Lindahl billboards. Non-Minnesota friends, if you have no clue what I am talking about, count your blessings.

We made good time and arrived at Jake’s parents which would serve as our base of operations for trail preparations. We settled in, deep cleaned the van and out came the laptops for some serious crunch time trail organization.

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