Durango

        During my eighth grade year, dad got a job working for a company in Durango Colorado called Roseberry Plumbing & Heating.  He would travel the six hours to Durango on Sunday and stay all week and work, get in the car on Friday night, and drive back home for the weekend.

        When summer came, I went with him to check out the place.  Dad had found a place that we could move the home to just north of Durango Called Hermosa.

        Mom and Julie stayed in the springs getting things ready to move while I went to Durango.

The drive to Durango had us going through some of the most beautiful scenery in the state.  One section of highway is called Wolf Creek Pass.  It was on this narrow winding section that I learned how to drive.  Dad would let me take the controls on the upsides of the pass and let me go.  They have widened the road alot since then but it’s still curvy in areas and lots of cliff.

        Well, dad did not want to spend money on lodging so we stayed down on the river (Los Animas) just south of town.  There were pull over areas and day areas along that section of river and nobody cared if we pitched a tent.  We ate what we caught along with canned tuna fish and potted meat with crackers.

        During the day, dad would work while I checked out the town.

        I have to interject here a second.  It’s Friday November 2, 2001.  I just came back from lunch at the big McDonalds.  I have been riding my motorcycle to work lately (a Suzuki LS 650 with drag pipes to make it sound like a Harley...Yellow) and I’m a good driver I think.  However, I’m also stupid because I like to ride my hog wanna be without a helmet.  I’m not crazy on the bike but I worry about the people driving the cars around me.  I’ve had a few narrow escapes already.  So anyway, I’m eating my 99-cent Big Mac when an older couple...much older couple sits down at a table across from me.  The husband has to be at least late 90’s and the wife early 90’s.  She carries the tray of food to the table slowly.  He follows at the small shuffle feet walk with his aluminum cane dangling from two fingers.  She helps him over to the table cuz he’s looking lost.  She helps him sit down...a feat that takes about 3 minutes.  He sits, hunched over a little and stares.  She gets his Happy Meal for him, opens it, sits it out, gets his drink, puts in the straw, he mumbles something and she yells something back so he can hear.  They sit in silence and she helps him get the food to his mouth and so on.  When they are finished, he insists on taking the empty tray to the trash.  She helps him up.  Three minutes to do so again, and hands him the tray.  He carries it at the angle of 60 degrees almost spilling everything on it.  Once at the trash, he attempts to open the swinging door to empty the trash but can barely do so.  She helps him.  After this, they both small step shuffle to the exit where he attempts to open the door.  She helps him.  Once outside, it is a 5-minute walk of 20 feet to the car.  She again helps him into the car.  This tasks takes a bit longer...6 minutes and he’s in...THE DRIVERS SIDE OF A SUBURBAN!!!!!!! Where did he go! I cannot see he’s head over the dashboard!  I can however see his two feeble hands grasping the steering wheel.  Another few minutes to find where the key goes and muster up the strength to turn the doohickey on and VROOOOOOM.  Off they go.

        Yes, I have to be crazy to even step outside this McDonalds let alone drive my motorcycle with or without a helmet with people like that at the wheel.

        OK, Last line before I interrupted...

During the day, dad would work while I checked out the town.

        Durango was a small town nestled down in a valley at 6,512 feet above sea level.  It has tons of mountains, trees, and cool stuff.  Here are a few photos of the surrounding areas...really.