We arrived in Estes Park, CO (gateway to Rocky Mountain National Park) at the campground after the host had closed up shop, so we just picked a campsite--right by the bathroom/showers--and figured we'd settle matters in the morning. Methought this campground had been a gravel pit in a not-too-distant past. Oh, and didn't the tent slant downhill a little? Maybe not. Thus began one of the longest nights of my life. By folding my pillow several times I could compensate for the unusual amount of blood that rushed to my head as I lay down to slumber. Then the wind came. The rain flap whipped around, and I pictured us soaring over Colorado in our golden NorthFace two-manner. The wind howled down from the canyon like a train engine! I opened the tent to see if the rain flap could be salvaged. Fortunately it was secure albeit still flapping uncontrolably. It was at that point that the wind delivered about 4 gallons of sand into my mouth and covered our bag with a nice sheet of grit. Wind. Grit. Blood in my head resulting in a throbbing pain. Paco had crashed. Good. He can drive the 8 hours home. But what I hadn't accounted for was the bratwurst/heavy-on-the-onions he'd downed at our granddaughter's birthday dinner earlier. Be still my revolted stomach...Long long night. Wind, grit, throb--all on a digesting bratwurst/onion bun...
2 comments:
There has to be some sort of untapped market out there for night time restlessness. Sleeping pills are good, yes, but there needs to be some sort of alternative activity. Like a virtual reality that you hook up to that wisks you away to another reality...peaceful, quiet, soft...
There is no longer night than that spent awake in a tent. I had one Tue night in the Gros Ventre campground.
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