|Lake Agnes. Colorado|
The first part was great. I took a hike up a trail near here to Lake Agnes. I stopped at the ranger station for a pass, and they told me the road in was closed, so I stopped at the top of the turnoff and hiked on in. Turns out the road wasn't closed after all - I could have saved myself a good mile of hiking - but that's OK. The air was cool and clean and smelled like fresh pine - aaahhh! I enjoyed the road in; it was a fairly easy hike.
Which is more than I can say for the last stretch of trail up to the lake. It was still covered in a foot or three of snowpack. The snow was soft, the slope was steep. I ended up taking it in chunks. Take ten steps, stop, breathe, repeat. Fortunately for my leg muscles, the snow was almost at the end of the trail. Shortly after the snowpack ended, I turned a corner, and there was a tiny crater lake. There were a few other people there, fishing and enjoying the day, but their presence didn't bother me. Rather, it was a comfort. It meant that if I slipped and fell on the snow heading out, there would be someone behind me to call in help if I hurt myself.
As you can see, the view from the lakeshore was well worth the hike. (Yes, that's an island in the middle of the lake!) I didn't stay as long as I would have liked - some dark clouds came rolling in, and I didn't care for the prospect of climbing down the snow in the rain. I did take time to enjoy it for the better part of an hour - sat, ate lunch, watched the water change colors with the sky. The hike down went much more quickly, and was much easier on the lungs than the inward journey.
When I got back to the campground, things went downhill just a bit. It's about time to empty the holding tanks on the truck, so I pulled to the dump station, and started the macerator pump. After about 10 seconds, it sounded like it took too big a bite of something, and quit running.
A quick look at the web claimed there should be a manual turn switch on the pump. Of course, the pump just HAS to be located dead center under the vehicle - but I crawled under the truck to find it anyways. (I can be a bit stubborn.) No such animal, but I did get my good hiking pants covered with grease, and discovered that my new boobs just won't squish the way the old ones did. **sigh** (Theoretically, there's a fuse somewhere, too, but I couldn't find that either. I guess I'll just have to be REALLY careful with water until I get back to KC, and can find someone to repair it.)
After a few tears of self-pity, I stopped, pulled myself together, and went in for a shower. I wanted to wash the clothes before the grease set in, but by the time I'd gotten to the laundry room, they'd already closed up shop for the evening. ** more sighs ** I'd decided to sit down and catch up on my e-mail, and the lady who runs the camp came by. She saw my soap and clothes, and offered to reopen the room for me. ** OK, maybe this isn't the end of the world. ** I got in, rubbed about half a bottle of detergent on the stains, and started the washer. Not all of the grease came out, but the vast majority of it did.
My clothes will survive.
And maybe I will, too.
Not so sure about the pump...
I find my emotions a bit unstable these days. Small setbacks - especially when I think I've screwed something up somewhere - upset me disproportionately. The pump breaks, and I'm instantly a fool for hanging on to the camper van because keeping the darn thing running is going to bankrupt me and I'll never get to travel again anyhow. (Yes, this ignores the fact I'm on the road right now. There's very little logic involved in these trains of thought.)
A little dinner, the shower, the kindness of the campground owner - these have all helped. Along with some good timing - I made it back to the van just as a thunderstorm rolled in. The internet connection magically decided to start working in my camper during the storm. See? Good things are happening, too!
Stop. Breathe. Relax.