Roadtrip . . . continued

As we hurtled across Idaho, my mind wandered a bit . . . I thought of that nice home in Odin Falls Ranch, the one with the mountain views, the great pool, and room for me to roam.  I was starting to tire of the incessant babble of the books on tape, the equally incessant small talk between my owners–real estate in Bend Oregon, cabins at Brasada Ranch, bank-owned properties in Central Oregon, foreclosures . . . blah, blah, blah.  Once they mentioned Odin Falls Ranch,  and a vision of Bailey flashed before my eyes.

Utah

We crossed into Utah and I hardly noticed.  We headed into the mountains just south of Salt Lake and passed through small towns that seemed part of a different era.  At dusk, we rumbled into a great campground in Green River.

My master humbly borrowed some tent pegs from the host; our shelter this night actually looked almost acceptable.

Our campground was bounded by the Green River itself;

it was also surrounded by a golf course (my master is more clever than he looks) . . . not Tetherow, or Brasada Ranch, or Pronghorn . . . but, nevertheless, it was a golf course; it was pretty.

I was pretty excited because the marshal let me walk the course too (something I have to do on the sly at home in Bend).

Colorado

After a quick nine holes ($20 for all day with a cart!), we headed into Colorado.  My master decided to take the scenic route through Aspen (he spent a winter there once, he says, when he was young and handsome).  I liked the town; I saw a lot  phoofey dogs there . . . sorta reminded me of some of the little dogs I saw at the Mt. Bachelor Kennel Club Dog Show in Redmond earlier in the summer.  Leaving Aspen, we climbed a narrow road (I was scared!), cresting Independence Pass and the Continental Divide.

I was surprised as my breath came in short gasps at this elevation.

We descended on another narrow road

and entered Leadville (my mistress got all excited and kept talking about Angle of Repose, a book by Wallace Stegner, partially set in Leadville), once a booming mining town

now in the throes of regentrification (yeah, that’s a big word for a dog!).  We drove out to my master’s brother’s home . . . quite a spread on 17 acres. It was called the “Silent Star Ranch.”

We had a nice chili dinner and celebrated with other family members.  It was fun.

As I had mentioned in a previous post, my mission was twofold: attend a family reunion (spend time with my cousin, Bean) and see Lance Armstrong perform in the “Leadville 100.”  I slept in a good tent (not as great as it sounds after the chili dinner!) that night.

The Race

Morning came quickly; we headed into town to watch the 6:30 AM start to the race.  I think I got a glimpse of Lance, but all the racers looked pretty much the same . . . all 1500 of them.

The course took them over hill and dale, 100 leg-burning miles of treacherous terrain.  We went back to the homestead to await the finishers (the race normally takes between 7 and 12 hours . . . the same guy, David Wiens had won every year since 2003).

Lance

At around 12:45 there was a bit of a commotion . . . the first racer was coming through. It was Lance!  I galloped out and barked at him; my master took a picture for me.