565. Walsenburg, Huerfano County (CO33)

Nice. I thought I was going to be done after Pueblo, but I was passing close enough that I figured I could slip one more in on the way back home. I pulled off the highway and into the center of whatever you call a place with only 3000 people. At least I had a nice county edifice to look at for a few minutes. I had already gotten my cache since the town was cache poor and that got a little strange…

As you can see, the cache was a pill bottle on a road sign on a side road off the highway. When I turned off onto the side road, there was a dude there, sitting in their car. I had hoped the cache would be well beyond them because I didn’t want to have to deal with people at this point, but it was only about 75 yards past him. I went ahead and went to it, hoping I could grab it and get away without contact. Unfortunately, I was not so lucky. He called out to me and I couldn’t not answer in return. Turns out he was also from Texas and apparently his car was broken down. He thought a jump might get it started, but he’d been having problems for a bit anyway and thought it might be screwed and he had pretty much everything he had in it trying to drive back to Texas. Couldn’t jump his car because we didn’t have jumper cables. I offered him a ride into town, but he didn’t want to leave all his stuff behind and I get that. Then he asked me what I would take to load up all his stuff and give him a ride back to Texas. I felt bad, but I had to refuse. I’m sorry, but there is now way on God’s green earth that I’m taking someone I don’t know (who already looks a little skeevy to me) on an 800 mile drive at the best of times, much less when we’re still in the throes of a pandemic. When I was younger, I might have done it because I’ve been in similar situations and I have been helped by strangers. At least once, I was the savior and not the saved. I can’t take chances like that anymore. I have daughters and I can’t risk things like that anymore. I have to make sure I get home, alive and safe. With our options exhausted, I ended up having to leave him there. There was little else I could do for him. I hope he’s doing alright. I hope he found a way to get home. I’m sorry I couldn’t help him. I had bigger concerns and I can’t always be my proverbial brother’s keeper. At this point, with cache and courthouse, I was truly done. I went south, through Trinidad and over the Raton Pass. I passed Clayton and bypassed Amarillo and Lubbock. I made the miles submit to my tires and, in the fullness of time, I returned to the city of my fathers, the bed of my comfort. I lay down and closed my eyes, happy for what I had done and dreaming of the next trip, a trip that would begin in…