Hitchhiking USA & Europe: Chap 6 (Colorado)

---October 18th 2013---

South East Colorado

The next day, I tried the Toadstool again, but after 2h seeing barely any car, and all local, a car heading toward Denver stopped. Rich was the driver, and was with his girlfriend. Denver was my next destination, and the Badlands looked more and more impossible to hitchhike too, so I decided to take the ride, bypassing the totality of Nebraska.

As we were driving down the long and flat road of Nebraska, Rich asked me if I had a place to stay overnight. I told him I didn’t have any plans yet, and without hesitation invited me over. He was a member of Couchsurfing, but hadn’t had any guess due to no reference. So having me offer was perfect for him.

We got to his place late enough in the day for me not to be able to do anything. So, I helped him cook. When I say helped, I mean I cut one or two things. I was and still am a terrible cook, whereas he loves it. We made ice cream, followed by supper, to let the ice cream freeze, and what a meal it was.

The next day, he drove me the Red Rock Amphitheater where I got into close encounter with a few deer, and also with hail. I got back on the road and got picked up by my first Canadian, since I crossed the border. He was the exact stereotype of Canadian. Finished his sentence with “Eh?”, kept on saying things were a “Hoot”, and had the exact accent you only hear on TV. He was heading for a tour of the Coors Light Brewery, so I tagged along. A free tour and four free beers later, we were back on the road. Well, he was heading west as I was heading east, so he got back on the road, where as I waited for a ride.

Red Rock Amphitheater

I was a little bit nervous. Rich who had just open a board game shop, had his opening night, and by the time I would have crossed town, find a ride, and once in Denver, found the shop, I would have missed it. I called him to see if he knew of a bus, but instead, sent me a friend to come pick me up. At least, I won’t get lost. Once at his shop, I got to shake hands with Denver’s major, eat cake, and play board games all night. And when the shop closed its door, a few of his friends stayed and we played Cards Against Humanity; probably the game with the less taboo ever created.

After another day exploring Denver’s downtown, I decided to get back on the road. I was waiting for a mail to arrive at Rich’s house, so I decided to go on a small loop.

My first stop was Garden of the Gods. As I got closer to the park, a guy picked me up, and offered me to sleep at his place. We partied a little bit, and headed out to the park. The Sun had just disappeared behind the great prairies, but the lower sky was still gorging with colors. Although it was illegal, my hosts brought me to a small lip climbing the massif dyke. And once at the summit, we cracked open a beer and look at last rays slowly fading away, as the city lights we growing stronger and stronger.

The next morning, I had a ride to the entrance of the park, so that I could see it in the daylight. The air was a big frisk, but I felt great, so great, that for the first time since I left, I manage to carry my bag for two hours, and without complaining. The scenery left from those huge red wall sticking out of the green forest did help get my head away from my stronger back.

Garden of the Gods

I got a ride to the interstate, but not having any shoulder on the entrance, I decided to try directly on the interstate. It didn’t take long before a police officer off of work stopped with his brand new red pickup. I was surprised that he didn’t arrest me, but was even more surprised to see that he told me to hop in the back of the pickup. I was doing two illegal things at once, and with a police officer.

That day, I managed to reach the Great Sand Dunes, and what a sight it was. From the high plateau, everything looked flat, but as we got closer to the white capped mountains, the otherwise boring landscape changed to the best. Right in front of the car was the long and flat road, disappearing in a greyish mirage; just over that mirage, were the dark beige sand dunes, surrounded by the mountain slowly being conquered by the snow of the upcoming winter. The contrast of the flatness neighbouring the huge sierra was a sight to be seen on its own.

Once at the park, I grabbed my bag, and left for another massif hike. I climbed the 770 feet of sandy hill. Already high in altitude, I had less oxygen than usual, but carrying my bag barefoot on the freezing cold sand wasn’t much of help; finally, being on sand, at every step, I would lose about 20% of my upward push, moving sand down, so that 770 feet was like climbing 1000 feet. Once the summit conquered, an incredible was awaiting. Every dune were split into two, the southern face was colored in the dark and wet beige of the sand, whereas the northern side was covered in the virgin white of the snow protected from the Sun’s heat.

Th snow points north

That night, as I was setting up my tent, a couple from Kentucky passed by and invited me to join them for supper. After some incredibly tasty steak, we talked about our respective adventures, and eventually, the guy told me he had a plane back in Kentucky, and that if I were ever to pass by there, all I had to do was to give him a call, and he would come pick me up with his plane. Unfortunately, I eventually lost his contact.

The next morning, I got up and as I was heading toward the intersection to start my day, I tried to take one last picture of the dunes, but I couldn’t focus my camera. I tried, tried, and tried again; nothing. What should I do? I don’t travel from city to city, but from parks to parks, I need my camera to take pictures. I thought the best thing to do was to head for a Walmart, and buy a new one.As I was walking out of Walmart, a guy, Courtney, intercepted me.

“Are you hitchhiking?” he asked. I answered yes, and he followed: “See that grey car with the three dogs, that’s mine, the doors are unlocked, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” And he left.

A few minutes later, he came back and drove me out of town. Once out of town, he looked at me and said: “You know; the Black Canyon of the Gunnison is quite a ways from here. I don’t think you’ll make it by the end of the day. If you want, you can stay over at my house for the night, and tomorrow I’ll drop back here so you can head toward it. That will give you a little rest. You’ll be able to shower and eat good food. How does that sound.”

It sounded great, so I accepted. To finish the day, I went for a small walk on a local hill, tested my new camera, and took a shower. In the morning, after breakfast, he told me: “You know, I was thinking about that last night. You said you were heading to the canyon, then down the San Juan Highway, and pass by here again to head to Denver. If you want, you can come back here for an extra night. My home is your home.” I told him I would probably be back within two days.

He drove me back to the exit of town, and before I even got to close the door, a car pulled over. He drove me a few towns farther, were another car picked me up in record breaking time. As I was telling that driver about the night before, he told me that he had also stayed at Courtney’s house a few years back. He stayed there for two month until he could move in his new apartment.

Once in the park, I managed to hitch another two rides before being dropped at the intersection of the main road. I didn’t wait long before a guy pulled over to tell me he wasn’t going too far. Frustrated of constantly seeing people telling me they weren’t going far before disappearing in the distance, I told him I didn’t mind. This one wasn’t lying; in fact, we rolled for 30 seconds, and got about a hundred yards. That being said, despite being what looked like the most useless ride ever, it turns out that a car came out of that road, and picked me up. In other word, thanks to that tinny little ride, I got my most productive hitchhiking day until the Faroe Islands; thirteen rides that day, and a place to sleep indoor.

Black Canyon of the Gunnison

Getting my place to sleep wasn’t easy though. One of my rides told me I could sleep at his sister’s house in Durango, but wasn’t going there. So he told me he was going to let her know I was going to show up. Later on, I got picked up a dawn by seven Texan squeezed in the five person pickup. Having obviously no place for me, I was in the back. This lead to an extremely cold ride as the altitude, missed with the setting winter and the wind of the pickup cost me a few frostbite. But eventually, they decided it was better for me to squeeze in with everybody, making us eight, in a five person car. They told me that if I wanted, they could offer me a place to stay for the night. Unfortunately, they were all going to someone else’s house; the father of the younger girls/son of the driver. Once there, the father started to freak out seeing me. He simply blocked at the “he’s a hitchhiker” and despite the seven people I shared to ride with, and the mother who indifferent, the father would not change his decision. Feeling more than just bad, the grandmother brought me back to the center of town. I asked to be dropped at the police station, as I didn’t get a hold of my previous contact.

The police station called one of the patrol cars, and got a lift out of town where he told me I could camp wherever I wanted from that point on. I looked and looked, but there wasn’t any place to camp. It was about 10pm, and it was pitch dark. I tried again to call my contact, and this time I got a hold of her. Since she lived a bit out of town, she offered to come pick me up. Finally, my night was over.

The next morning, I had decided to head to Mesa Verde. The park wasn’t part of my original path, but being this close to it made it obvious I had to visit it. All morning long, I was hitching facing the Sun, which was excruciating for my eyes. And surprise surprise, in the evening, head back on the same road, I was once more forced to endure the Sun burning my eyes. As for the park, it didn’t take too long to be kicked out, once more since hitchhiking was illegal. I had the right to hitchhike to get in the park, but I needed to stay with my ride until I was out of the park. To finish my day, I went to a decent size dog park in Durango. I didn’t want to abuse of the generosity of my previous host, plus, the park was right next to the road heading east.

Mesa Verde

The next morning, I headed toward Salida where Courtney was going to host me. When I left his house, I said I was going to take two days to make my route, maybe three, but adding Mesa Verde, I definitely took three. Seeing I wasn’t back after two-and-a-half days, Courtney was starting to worry, so he took his car and started driving in the area trying to find me. As I got in town, I called him, and as he picked up the phone, I saw his car turning the corner, so I waved and hung up.

In the morning, after another breakfast with the old man, I hitched my way back to Denver, for another night at Rich’s house. I got my mail, and as one of his friends had just come from hunting, I got to taste a deer steak. What a delight it was!!

Feeling Like Home

After having crossed the mountain and visited Hanging Lake, I got stuck in Glenwood Spring for a night. I was supposed to be in Grand Junction, but didn’t get to reach it. I took the opportunity to fall into a tourist trap, only I knew what the trap was. As I was in one of my many Colorado ride, a guy asked me, with a big teasing smile, if I had got the opportunity to taste the famous Rocky Mountain Oyster. I looked at him asking him how come there were Oysters in Colorado. Based on what I know, these are salt water creatures, and Colorado isn’t near any salt water. He laughed and told me they were bull’s testicles. He told me that locals like to tell tourists they are oyster found deep into the mountains, and that they are very rare to find. So obviously, from the moment I learned about them, I just had to try them, and I would ask every ride if they knew of a place to try them. Most of my answer was Glenwood Spring, so knowing I was stuck in town for the night, I looked all over the place, and finally found them. I took a plate of Rocky Mountain Oyster, with a steak, and when the plate of testicles arrived, I played along and asked where the oyster came from. And as I did, I notice a vast majority of the head turn discreetly in my direction. One of them was the head of Dillon, who was playing pool. I noticed him since he was almost the only one looking my age.

Hanging Lake

The following day, I got to Grand Junction, where I met up with Candy. We met through Couchsurfing, and she invited me for two nights. A have to say, cities are rarely highlights for me, but thanks mostly to Candy, but also her group of friends, Grand Junction was definitely a highlight. When she came to pick me up in town, she was in a hurry to go to school, so she invited me over. We both sat front row, and the class started. Perfect, the subject is ecosystems, and I’ve seen enough documentary and read enough signs in parks to participate in class. Yeah, the Canadian tourist ended up being the one who participated most. Rather than being mad at the stranger, the teacher came and talked with me for a little while, a little bit about the ecosystem, but mostly about my trip.

Later that day, Candy threw a party, so I got to meet her friends, a drink all night long. I got a few occasion to drink during my trip, but very few parties. As the party got along, Dillon showed up. Puzzled as to see my familiar face here, he asked me if I was in Glenwood Spring the night before, and asked me if I knew what the Rocky Mountain Oyster was. I told him I knew, but still wanted to play the game.

After a day trying to get over my hangover, and walking around town, we got prepared for our night. It was Thursday, and it was the 24th of October. The town had organised a pick costume contest at the local bar. Candy was one of the people helping set the even. Having me around, she asked me if I wanted to help; and of course, I did. We prepared everything, and later that night, I was even chosen to be one of the judges.

The next day, was once again school day, so not to waste a day doing nothing, Candy brought me to the entrance of Colorado Natl Monument. I hitchhiked along the beautiful canyon, and once the canyon crossed, I found a ride back in town. I hung out with a few of her friends, and as they told me they were all rock climbers, I asked them if it was possible to try it myself. I had done a lot of climbing in my life, mostly trees, but a lot of small 10-15 feet tall boulders. Yet, I had never being on a real wall, with harness, climbing shoes, etc. And so, just like that, we planned a day out in Moab to do a little rock climbing, and take the time to visit Arches Natl Park.

Colorado Natl Park

Before ending to another new state for me, Candy invited me to join her for her Friday night radio show. I unfortunately didn’t get to talk, but still, I hung out at the local radio studio. As I was hanging out with her, and two friends at the station, I realised how crazy are the things and experience you end up living when you hitchhike.

PHOTOS