Up and over

Brrrrrrh! There's a definite chill in the air this morning, but the sky's perfectly blue and just a slight breeze is blowing. The ladies at Lambkin's make sure that both Buddy and I don't leave on an empty tank--actually, Buddy got a double portion with his regular kibble added as a second course.

Anyway, we pass a dilapidated cabin describing that so-and-so had been born here in 1904, and I start to think that in his day this little journey of ours must have been quite common, probably in the opposite direction though. We cross the continental divide at Roger's Pass (elv 5610 ft) before 1500. I guess few people do the on foot anymore.

Going toward the pass

Looking back at the Continental Divide

By mile post 96 both me and the dog are pooped. So I pitch tent right off the highway and heat a cup of coffee as the setting sun casts golden beams on the mosquitoes that are just beginning the rise from the grass. They glimmer and shine like would-be fairy folk come to dine on our juices.