Go East Not-So-Young Man & Woman

Well, with a final tweak here and fix there we departed Colorado Springs this afternoon for points east, and grandson Kaream's Army Basics Graduation at Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri, on August 30th.

Thank you everyone at Pikes Peak Traveland for all your work to get our long work list completed!
Jeff, Svc Mgr; Eric, Parts Mgr, and so many others. But today we had the chance to photo two of the team of 30 or more at PPT.

Heather (the blonde human) and Oakley (the Anatolian 4 year old on 4 legs) runs the office and HR for the shop & store.  She loves to speed ski, and is one of the most competitive sports and fitness centered people I have ever met, accepting perhaps our own cousin, Christine.

Donny was the primary mechanic on our work, with help from other techs on the specialty stuff.  Donny had a great and hard two weeks while working on our coach.  His daughter and grandkids came in from Des Moine and they had good times together.  And he and his wife lost their best friend, a 14 year old pug, called PUG.  Donny is a big strong guy.  He and his wife are proud owners of two powerful bikes.  But the day he had to have PUG put down he came to work and could not stay.  Donny apologized to us for holding up our coach one more day but hey, he NEEDED that day off and we are retired, with the next deadline Aug 30, so...  No problem!  Keep Donny and family in prayer.  This pup is truly missed.

Oh look!  What an interesting weather pattern ahead.

Yikes! HAIL!

We had no sooner hit Colorado 94 east bound for Kit Carson, Colorado than we hit some real plains weather.  HAIL, rain, and wind.
NO DAMAGE!!!


In the late 1890's my dad's mother's sister and her family moved from Michigan to homestead on their free acreage from the government. They settled on a plot about 8 miles west of Kit Carson, Colorado, at a place then called Sorrento.  We came into Sorrento on US 40 this afternoon.  All that was left of the area when Mona and I visited here in 1971 was the Railroad shed, a sign that read Sorrento, and the deserted grain elevator

Today the skeleton of the old grain tower is all that remains of the place they had dreamed of a new life in the west. And one Union Pacific track, not
                                                  two.



We arrived on the east end of town and settled into the large parking lot at the Trading Post Restaurant. By dark we had been joined by six other tired truckers, but no other RV's.


The storm we drove through 80 miles west had headed southeast and missed Kit Carson, but that was OK. The weatherman sent KC its own rain and dust storm. A fellow we met told us that last year no farmer around Kit Carson had to hire any harvester crews. All their crops dried up and blew away in drought.  There has been a bit more rain this year, so spirits are lifted, but farming is nothing if not weather-bound.  These folks know how to pray, and to praise God ANYWAY.

Mona and I drove around a bit and found two sites that brought back memories for each.  When Mona was pregnant with Jenn we headed west on our first two week vacation. It was 1971, and we had just bought our first RV.  A regular VW bus with a folding back seat, called a Z bed, that Mona put curtains in.  We loaded up our Coleman cooler, one burner stove, boxes of food and cookware and two suitcases and west we went.  Dry camping EVERYWHERE. Though we didn't know that was what it was called back then. Pioneer Park wasn't as fancy in 1971 but we found it safe and clean then and today.

Around the corner from Pioneer Park is the high school and that same building, plus some more, still serves Cheyenne County and Kit Carson.  In 1965, when my dad and mom brought brother Jim and I west for the first time, we parked in the bus lot. That was dry camping too, but we had no clue.  Imagine when Mona and I turned into the lot and found the bus GARAGE in the same location the DeWalt's had once camped, but one lonely school bus outside. Picture Time! Though our coach tonight will be MUCH more comfortable than the pup tent Jim and I shared.  In 1965 mom and dad got the slightly smaller than double bed foam mattress in the family VW camper.  It had a chemical toilet, hang up closet and folding table too!

I wandered about town a bit myself as soon as we put out the coach slides. And by golly, one of the first things I discovered was the very home Aunt Ella lived in till the early thirties after they lost the farm at Sorrento to hard times, and where my dad and his mother visited in the early thirties. We had seen it in 1965, 1971, and in 1982 (when Mona and I took our kids west for the first time) and it was still here.

Through a broken front window.
I can imagine my Grandma DeWalt
and father at 8-10 visiting in this parlor
 in the early thirties.

The biggest difference since the sixties, seventies, and eighties... someone lived in it then.  We learned this evening that it was put up for sale for only some back taxes and there were no takers. I imagine this is the end of a small story for theDeWalt
                                                      family.

 

 The streets of Kit Carson have changed a bit since 1965. Some things are gone, and some are added, like most towns.

 
 The Railroad station was still white, and still sitting along the two Union Pacific tracks at the end of Main Street in 1965. Shortly after our visit then, and by 1971 when Mona and I visited town, it was moved to its present site on US 40 and turned into the centerpiece of a rather large town museum.

I was greeted when I entered the door of the museum by Carmen, who is a volunteer of the Kit Carson Historical Society and a teacher at the school.  Carmen was interested to learn about my Great Aunt Ella and when I asked her how long the museum would be open I believe she actually kept it open a little longer than she might have just for me.



But Carmen REALLY blessed us by telling us of a BBQ happening this evening on Main Street, where the old hardware used to be.  I asked her if it was private or community.  She said, well, maybe private, but just about the whole community would be there.

So... not being too shy, when I walked downtown I found a bunch of folk setting up tables, stage for the band, the grill, and gas fired deep friers.  'What were they for', you ask? Well, one was for from scratch made potato chips.



This was not just a Kit Carson BBQ.  Noooo.  This was a Kit carson BBQ & Rocky Mountain Oyster Fry!

And just where did these breaded and well seasoned, deep fried and ready to munch oysters come from?  NOT the nearby Sand or Wild Horse Creeks.  Lets just say they are hard to come by, Availability depends on who you know and the time of year, each year, on the cattle ranch.  The time when bulls are ready to become steers.  You take it from there.

No, Mona and I did not refuse, and they were good, and they DON'T taste like chicken.  They taste like... fried nuts.  OK. Think calamari without the Marsala sauce.

So I asked the guys setting up if this was a closed party and they said 'No way.. except you have to bring your own beer and give the band a donation'.  I said, 'Alright, I think you may see us later.'

And back to the coach I walked, unhooked TOAD and Mona and I went to our first Kit Carson BBQ and Nut Fry.  Whooeee!

A case of Coors BANQUET and a donation to the band's POT and we were in.

What a wonderful comparison to the night of music we had at the O'Rourke's when Brian played for us around the campfire.  And how like the community event son Jim treated us to when he invited us to a very similar evening in Nederland with one of their local bands.

Oh the tables were heavily laden, and the fresh fire roasted corn was of a sweetness and flavor neither of us had ever experienced before.

The salads, desserts, and casseroles, all under the open huge western sky.


The crowd was wonderful, and all so welcoming. Many were anxious to learn of my Great Aunt Ella, and Mona had a good time talking with new friends.

I loved watching the children watch the band and dance to the old timey western tunes. Hank Williams would have been proud.

 And when the moon rose over Kit Carson's grain elevator we made our way

                                            back to TOAD, thanking all we could find for the special evening we'd just had.  

Just as we left a good man told us to hang around, for the fireworks were about to start.  But Mona was getting cold and my two beers, one beyond my daily limit, were lulling me to sleep.  So we watched them fire up the sky 30 minutes later from the coach windows. Beautiful!

What a day.  Back on the road again with FROG and TOAD together.  The adventure continues.  Thank you Kit Carson, for being the friend you have always been each decade or so we drive through.

-Ken