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Trip Dispatch #10: Saturday, May 28: BLM Artesian Well to Alamosa: Wind, grrr, grrr, grrr. (14 miles)

This was a very, very tough day. If hardship sells, I’m going to be a millionaire. Very, very windy. Wind was gritty, got in the eyes. My lips hurt like hell. Long flat stretches of road went on forever. This was not to any of our liking. Me, very irritable. Pete, trying hard to stay upbeat. At noon we stumbled upon an oasis of sorts—a well-tended lawn, a huge cottonwood tree, a freshly painted red barn. Myrna Swift took pity on us, and let us put the horses in her family’s corral for a few hours. The horses were happy to get water and hay. We didn’t want to leave but she didn’t offer to let us stay.

We pushed on. My saddle was slipping.

Lunch stop in Alamosa--race horse in back ground
Lunch stop in Alamosa--race horse in back ground

I got off, and right at that moment, what I called a double decker death truck roared by. After getting the saddle back in place, we continued on and then came to a field of lamas. Raudi didn’t know if she should whinny or bolt. And then there was the place with the two pit bulls. Rainbow tried her best to avoid them, but when one came to close, she bit it on the nose.

It was getting late, and we were now hard up for a place to stay. Pete began knocking on doors, and in short order we were directed by a horse owner to the place behind his. Bill Waldstrom greeted us with open arms. He had a corral in his backyard. And the fellow who sent us in his direction sold us a bale of hay.

Bill let us take showers at his place. This was most welcome –creek bathing is okay, but there’s no substitute for hot water. Pete made tuna and spaghetti. Sometimes you eat something and it hits the spot. This was one of those times.

Next: Dispatch #11: Sunday dinner at Bill’s place