A Diverse Day Indeed

The Dillon Farmer's Market.  A mix of food, homemade products, and odd things to buy.  A good people watching place we started enjoying a few years ago on a previous trip.  We've had some excellent Colorado peaches and some tasty smoked wild salmon from Alaska.  We were in search of those items once again.  Along the way, Miki found a pretty blue scarf that found it's way back to camp with us.  We did find the smoked salmon.  It was just as good as I remembered, as I found out for dinner, but the peaches were a disappointment.  We'll try again on the peaches, because last year they were that good!  Miki passed on the organic skin care products, the guy was a hard sell.  The goat cheese booth was a hit and also became part of Miki's dinner...the two words, goat and cheese, don't go with one another to me, so why would I put either one in my mouth.  We could have purchased a down pillow, roasted jalapeno peppers (right!), or homemade horseradish sauce...this time a compound word made of two words that don't belong together either.  A guitar and bass player were providing some background tunes in the vein of James Taylor and the people just kept coming.

Selling summer's bounty.

This afternoon, the dogs said enough of being stuck in the trailer while we go out and do stuff without them, so they demanded a walk.  Not just a walk around the campground, but a dog hike.  Miki picked a good, local trail to try we had not done previously called Peak Trail.  It began rather auspiciously, due to the fact we were supposed to drive on one of the many paved bicycle trails to get to our trailhead.  She had copied the directions and we were in the right place, but it just seemed wrong to turn onto a "bike path," when there is so much emphasis to watch out and yield to cyclists.  After turing onto the path and backing up, thinking this is not right, a minimum of 3 times, we finally saw another vehicle coming at us on the trail.  Either we were both wrong or both right...we got to the trailhead.  It was a great day and the dogs were thrilled to be out in it.  The trail followed a small stream they could have jumped over in many places and they stopped for numerous drinks.  Tooga found a number of pools to lay in to cool off his belly while Tuck saw every squirrel and chipmunk as part of a shish kabob for him.  Two hours later, we made it back to the truck with some tired pups.

Uphill

Downhill

Finally, I met a guy today with not very many teeth.  It was after dinner and I wanted to try a different technique called nymphing with my fly rod.  It was suggested by my brotha from anotha motha.  I was on my way to the lake, about a 5 minute walk through the campground and across some dried up lake bed, when I saw a guy with a fishing pole and small backpack walking towards me on the edge of the campground, I assumed he was on the way back to his campsite.  We passed while acknowledging each other and then I heard behind me, something about  a fishing pole and I turned around.  He had not noticed my fly rod initially as he approached, but then spoke up to talk a little shop as he was just coming back from the lake.  He looked like he had been out fishing a good part of the day with his spinning reel and rod.  He asked where I was headed and it was all I could do to pay attention to our conversation while noticing he was missing a good 4-6 teeth in the front left portion of his smile.  I was amazed he was as easy to understand as he was, so he must have lost them long enough ago to compensate for their loss.  I think I was caught up in the stereotype of this guy and just wanted to get to fishin'.  I nodded politely to most of his advice as to where he was catching the big ones and the fact he was Angler Of The Year somewhere not disclosed.  He spoke of the color he chose for his lure and suggested I do the same, cause they jump on it.  When he started repeating some of his advice and locations to try, I figured it was time to go.  I started backing away and  thanked him for what he had shared with me.  We were just two fisherman crossing paths, but I had a problem with it.

The days are warm and the nights are cool (chilly!) and evidently they are that way back home too.  So, why are we out here?  Cause we can!

My Zen from the Road:  After my Angler Of The Year encounter this evening, I started thinking of how I would have done things differently.  Spent more time, asked a few questions, or stared a little less at where teeth use to be.  I think next time I'm in a situation or I meet a character that seems safe enough, yet out there a bit from my perspective, I will not be in as much of a rush to distance myself from it or them.  I wonder what I missed out on.