HMS Beangle

Our campsite last weekend had a lot less shade than most in the Blue Mountain Campground, but that’s okay, its eastern orientation was perfect for sucking up the solar rays. And we had an excellent reason to set up our 180° awning for the entire four days. It handled the light breezes and stronger wind gusts really well. Who needs shore power, right?

Well, as it turns out, we did, because by Saturday afternoon our battery was at 3% and our refrigerator at an unhealthy 51°F. After sharing some mini freak outs, Jeff ran to the local general store to buy some ice to drop into the mini fridge, and I plugged our portable power bank in as “shore power” and got the battery back up to 51%, enough to get us through the weekend if we sipped electricity vs guzzled it.

We also raided the camp host’s site under cover of darkness, literally, and (*looks left, looks right*) recharged our depleted power bank for an hour at their electrical hookup. As they were gone due to a family emergency, we decided they wouldn’t mind. With our illicit power, we were able to push the charge back to 79% on Sunday morning.

That was the big event for the weekend. We talked with the manufacturer on Monday morning and they were able to diagnose the problem, a bad component between the solar panel and the battery that will need to be replaced. They’re working to schedule the repair locally. Good to get the bugs worked out before we hit the road for good.

After arriving mid-day last Friday, we found a nice little trail to stretch our legs and check out the area. What we found is that the trail went Up Up Up and then Down Down Down into another campground that sits on the South Fork of the South Platte River. At some point we wandered off the official trail and had to figure out a way back to it. We also hiked it in our running shoes; we should have had our boots on. One of those, ‘It’s only a mile,’ moments.

A couple of months back, we watched an older TV series called How the Earth was Made, sipping it episode by episode. One of the common themes throughout (earthquakes! tectonic plates! volcanoes!) is how magma pushes through cracks to form intrusive bands of igneous rock like the one you see below. We enjoy seeing examples of it on our hikes. It reminds me of backbones.

Our evenings were pretty quiet the entire long weekend. A simple dinner, pretty sunset, crackling fire, and retire early. Repeat. I woke up each evening around midnight, hello tiny bladder, and stargazed a bit since it was a new moon weekend. I even saw a bit of a meteor shower. We’d intended to go to a stargazing event nearby, but never got there. Sometimes it just makes more sense to relax and get some extra sleep. Each morning Jeff would make us coffee/tea and then sit very very quietly, watching the birds move around us. Hairy woodpeckers, hummingbirds, western bluebirds, a variety of hawks. His Merlin app was getting a workout.

One of the things we’re learning is that I’m our fire whisperer. When Jeff has declared a fire played out, I can usually get it going again. As for getting it started, step aside, I’ve got work to do. I don’t know why, but where the logs should go and where and when it needs more oxygen just makes sense to me. My reflexes are crap, so I can’t catch anything you toss to me, but I can burn a pile of logs to ash.

On Saturday, when we knowingly chose to hike in the heat of the day, we saw the cutest little toddler hiking boot atop the trail signage post. I hope someone came back for it!

We wandered in and out of tree cover for a few miles, had a schnack, and then turned back to the truck.

Along the way, we passed a few others but mostly had the trail to ourselves (again, heat o’ the day). The river nearby though? It was packed with people sitting on lawn chairs in the river itself or tubing down the length of it. Everyone seemed to be up in the mountains, cooling off from triple digits down on the Front Range.

I may or may not have seen a mountain lion’s head pop up on top of the rocky ledge below. I can’t be sure, as it was out of the corner of my eye, but it’s definitely the type of place a cougar would like to be. We kept our eyes peeled the rest of the hike.

On Sunday we drove over to Florissant National Monument. The area isn’t well known in general, even here, but what it’s best known for are its large petrified Redwood stumps. There used to be hundreds of them, but tourists broke off pieces as souvenirs for decades (“It’s just one little piece”) and now there are only a handful left. Seriously, people, leave things where you find them. Yes, even the little bits.

What Florissant National Monument should be better known for is that it’s home to some of the best, clearest, and most detailed examples of plant and insect fossils in the world. I mean it, they’re famous the world over by paleontologists, botanists, and entomologists. And they’re stunning.

The area also has 14 miles of very pretty, easy to moderate trails through all kinds of environments, including a remarkably well preserved homestead. We took a hike that again went Up Up Up and which overlooks Pike’s Peak before passing through a few groves of Aspens on the way back to the visitor’s center.

We’re four weeks today from our lease being up and our last days being worked. I’ve paid our last month’s rent, changed our addresses, scheduled the end of utilities, and sold off or given away nearly everything we own. Our furniture is getting picked up soon. The give-your-stuff-away-for-free sites/apps probably know me by name now. Our cycle trainers are still for sale. That’s my current pain in the neck thing yet to deal with.

We spent yesterday packing the truck with 99% of what we’re taking with us, to make sure it all fits. There’s… a lot. Too much stuff, to be honest, but we’ll use up the consumables and jettison other things as we figure out what we do and don’t use.

Cross your fingers and wish us luck. It’s probably going to be a bumpy month.