I woke up in the front seat of my car and looked around and tried to remember where I was. It took a few seconds. Oh yeah. 134A, the road to Cabresto Lake, the one with the sign that said not suitable for passenger cars. More or less exactly where I had planned to end up when I was making my plans at the coffee shop yesterday. Strange, that doesn't usually happen. I squirmed my way out of my sleeping bag, kicked open the door, and had me a nice wakeup piss in the firepit.
The campsite was large, so large in fact that I thought it might be some kind of group site. There was a gigantic pile of firewood over on one end indicating that the place might actually be private property. Oh well. These things happen when you go driving off into the woods at night on roads you've never driven before. What am I gonna do, move somewhere else? Nope, not unless people with guns show up and tell me to.
After leaving Westcliffe yesterday I'd driven to Walsenburg then over La Veta Pass where some jackass pulled out of the summit parking lot and crossed all four lanes of traffic and came directly into my lane on a collision course with me and I had to put the brake pedal on the floor and lay down a long line of rubber on the highway to avoid putting them in the hospital, and from there I'd driven to Fort Garland and eventually made it to Questa, New Mexico. Not content with sentencing me to merely one heart-stopping almost-accident in a single day, the universe also saw fit to send a very angry dog sprinting out onto Lolla Road with a clear mission to flank and attack my car as I made my way through its territory and into the national forest. I hit the gas and outran it and as asphalt gave way to gravel I couldn't help but think Man I honestly kinda wish I had hit that little prick. And the dog, too.
I spent the day hiking up to Latir Peak Mesa and taking pictures and seeing nobody except for two fishermen camping at the trailhead. Later I drove into town and wandered into Family Dollar and bought lemonade, a jar of pickles, and a box that said Hungry Man Salisbury Steak on it because after my hike I was craving meat and steak has meat in it. It wasn't until I returned to my campsite and got out my frying pan and opened the box of steak that I realized my steak was actually a steak dinner featuring not just steak but also green beans, mashed potatoes, and gravy all neatly compartmentalized in a little black tray that was clearly meant to be tossed into a microwave and nuked. I suppose I should start paying more attention to labeling before I buy things.
That night I was sitting in the front seat of my car with the heater on trying to keep warm when the check engine light suddenly blinked on and stayed on. It was 8:20pm.