863. Lake City, Hinsdale County (CO49)

Lake City made me mad from the jump.  First of all, I had to summit an 11,500 foot mountain to get to it in the first place through the Slumgullion Pass.  But I did make a quick stop at…

…North Clear Creek Falls. The intermittent rain no doubt helped make it more picturesque than it already was. Secondly, the town, charming as it was, had absolutely no phone service whatsoever.  At least, not for my provider it didn’t, so it was a good thing I had downloaded all the caches in the county in anticipation of just such a situation.  I started asking people if they knew where the courthouse was, but they were all visitors and didn’t have a clue.  Finally, I got a restaurant manager who told me to “go that way,” pointing back the way I came, and “it’s a big ass building.”  He didn’t tell me that it was a couple blocks off the main street.  It would have taken me a while to find (not that the town was that big, mind you) if I hadn’t found and connected to an open wireless port (thank you, Mountaineer Theater).  It wasn’t a terrible courthouse at all.  It seemed like a wooden courthouse you’d see in the center of town in a western and, considering the town was a modern version of an Old West town, it fit well with the ambiance.  The saving grace was that there was a cache right by it.

Right behind the courthouse was the county Veterans’ Monument, and hidden at the monument was a small pill bottle.  It threw me at first because, being part of the Colorado Spirit Series, I assumed it would be in a cemetery but that was quickly shown to be untrue.  There was someone in a truck parked at the monument, but they were really doing something having to do with the bar next door.  I have no idea what that was, but the important thing was that they were paying no attention to me as I did my work.  And once I was done, I was off again, out of that town.  The sun was starting to get low and, though I’m totally fine with sleeping in the car on road trips, this time I needed a bed.  Not only had I been driving for two days straight, but I needed to write something for the morning to kick off this entire trip.  I took winding roads out of the mountains, hoping to hit my final destination before the sun went down.  That was not to be.  I was in the middle of the twisting mountain roads when night descended like the cloak of a brooding god.  And once the darkness held inimitable dominion, the rain began.  I was white knuckling it so hard, trying to stick to the road, barely able to see the stripes painted thereon.  Of course, my fellow drivers had both more extensive experience with the mountain roads and insisted on speeding through them beyond my ability to do so, but also had trucks and jeeps with their headlights in my eyeline.  Barely being able to see the road and unable to stop lest I get hit, I considered for a moment that I might die on the side of a mountain and I refused to die in a pass.  My only hope was to do something I am loath to do: put my faith in technology.  The rental car had lane assistance activated, which had served me well enough thus far.  It was able to see the stripes I could not.  So I followed the vehicle’s lead.  When it turned, I leaned into it.  When it tried to straighten, I followed suit.  And eventually I made it off that damned mountain onto a riparian highway.  Despite the rain, I breathed a sigh of relief as I drove into the outskirts of…