Saturday.
We didn't need the air conditioner. We didn't need the heater. We got open
windows and river noise all night.
The morning dawned warm and overcast. We hooked up the Jeep and left. The
weather deteriorated. By Delta we were driving in some serious wind and
rain. We had to slow down to fifty for a while, but overall, the Bounder
took the wind well. At Grand Junction, the weather improved to steady rain
without much wind for the rest of the trip. Steady rain, except when it
turned to snow on mountain passes. Big fat flakes covering the windshield.
That highlights how big that windshield really is, when you can just look
out through the wiper blade paths.
We missed the steam train. There was no steam train this morning.
North. North to Montrose. North to Delta and just glancing off Grand
Junction. Then East. Interstate 70, east to Rifle, Glenwood Springs,
Eagle, Vail, Vail Pass, Copper Mountain, Officer's Gulch, Frisco,
Silverthorne, Dillon, The Eisenhower Tunnel, Idaho Springs, glanced off
Denver, and home to Louisville. Louisville. The biggest town we've been in
lately.
As we were driving through the driving rain outside Grand Junction, I got to
wondering about hydroplaning. Cars hydroplane in conditions like this. Do
motorhomes? We weigh thousands and thousands of pounds. Are we immune from
hydroplaning because we're so heavy it can't lift us? I decided not to test
the theory. I drove carefully.
At the Evergreen exit, just outside Denver, the clouds turned dark, and the
rain turned to hail. Serious lightning. The sun came out just as we left
the mountains. As we approached Louisville, the sky got bright dark. Dark
heavy clouds. Rain. Too dark to wear sunglasses, so we had to take them
off. But the sun was shining through under the clouds from the west so we
had to put the sunglasses back on to cut down the glare. Glaring dark.
A three hundred fifty mile day.
A little racquetball therapy.
It's not like we're going to be here for very long. We're off to Ft. Lupton
next Friday.
