Wandering Retirees

We bid farewell to Ouray, CO this morning and set out for Moab, UT.  It was a wistful departure because we both loved our short time in Ouray. It’s a quaint, very pretty little town set in a narrow gorge in the San Juan mountains, with snow capped peaks towering over sheer sandstone cliffs within yards of the cinder streets. Our hosts were so kind, the inn so charming, and the people so welcoming that we felt we could stay for a long while. It made me as though we were tucked in an Alpine village in Switzerland or southern Germany. We’ll be back one day. 

The ride was wonderful. We climbed some mountain roads complete with tight switchbacks and descended into valleys where the road opened up to allow the bike to stretch its legs. There were very few people or cars sharing the road. We did however share the road with a herd of cattle and calves for a spell. We had seen signs warning that cattle might be found in the roadway, but didn’t expect to encounter a hundred head being driven by herd dogs, real mounted cowboys and a foreman in his pickup. Seeing as the beasts were bigger than us, we obligingly (wisely) stopped to allow them by. At one point we were surrounded by the beasts and treated to a chorus/cacophony of moo’s. There was one senior cow that stood in the middle of the road glaring at us. She wasn’t moving, so neither did we.  There was literally nothing we could do, so we sat and hoped for the best. The rest wandered by munching on the abundant grass on the verge, leaving pungent evidence of their passage. Finally, momma figured we were no threat and moved aside allowing us to gingerly make our way through. A truly bucolic pause in our march.
We arrived in Moab in early afternoon. It was very hot and we were hungry, so to a chain restaurant we went. About the time we checked in, we were feeling punky – the food didn’t sit well. So we took the afternoon off, hoping to feel better in the morning. We may miss out on Canyon Lands and a State park called Dead Horse Point. A little disappointing, but we comfort ourselves with the thought that we can’t see everything, and recovery is more important.  (Sipping cold water and munching on the blandest crackers on the planet as I write.)   
Tomorrow we plan to visit Arches Nat’l Park, an iconic Utah site. So looking forward to it.
A couple of notes. Connie’s pics are again wonderful. There are a couple of shots coming out of Ouray that take in the town fairgrounds with high peaks in the background. They are stunning. At the same stop, we found old rail cars with the logos of the Denver- Rio Grande – Western Railroad. This pleases us so much because it grounds our love of the game, Rail Baron, in real life. 
We passed through the teeming community of Bedrock, CO, about 40 miles south and east of Moab. We saw 4 buildings and a small (the size of a modest water closet) post office, zip code 81411. Neither Barney nor Fred were in sight, and no sign of a Brontoburger drive in.  It is on the map though. I suspect that cartographers include such tiny burgs in order to fill up otherwise empty space. Seriously, it is a reminder that many folks live in small towns, and they necessarily experience this American life differently than we do. Not more or less important or real, just different.
Going back to Mesa Verde, I want to mention the Ranger who guided our tour. His name is Jeff Brown, about 40-ish and clearly a scholar; he cited research papers and articles during his narrative, including author and page. You know he isn’t paid much, but he loves what he does and his enthusiasm was contagious. We have met many like him. And the Park Service is very fortunate to have these folks, and so are we.
Finally, we have ridden over 4,600 miles as of today. We will be well over 5,500 in a few days when we drive toward Yosemite. 
Good night / good morning for now. More Wednesday night.

The ride today took us through lush valleys and red rock and desert and back again. Finally ending in Moab.