Hello from Golden Colorado which is right next to Denver. Nebraska is a memory after a 450 mile drive. The total miles that I have driven is 1800 miles. The driving is beginning to get to me. The Puppies hair fell out days ago from the road noise, more specifically the brrrruuuupppppttttt sound of the warning strips on the side of the road. Monty has a nuclear meltdown each time the wind or traffic blows us to the side and I run over the warning strips. In Nebraska a warning strip was on the center line as well as the side line. Monty is not a happy camper. We have 1000 or more miles to go until we reach Saskatchewan.
We dropped anchor in a campground across from a biker bar. I should say we dropped anchor in the Mecca for loud bikes with full fledged dirt bags riding them as well as the new fashionable, college educated dirt bag wanna bees that ride them. All night and day long the bikes passed by the campground as well as the loud biker bar across the street. After we dropped anchor Deb heard a band playing, and so she decided we should walk over to Dirt Bag Roadhouse and listen to the band. I didn't think much about it until we walked up to the place with the dogs. Of course Monty and Riley make friends everywhere they go and as soon as we walked up a dirt bag wanted to pet them. Of course we said okay, but I quickly had second thoughts because that guy would likely give Monty and Riley fleas. As it turned out, this place was full of smelly, nasty, dirt bags that like to sit on loud Harley Davidson motorcycles racing their motors going broom, broom, broom. I think the matter falls under "The Mommy Look At Me Syndrome" as it was taught to me in Southern Boy University Psychics (pronounced physics) Department. I surmised that when the dirt bags were little dirt bags growing up their mommies wouldn't pay attention to them so they lacked parental attention . In order to garner the needed attention they quit bathing, grew their hair long, and started sitting on loud motorcycles going broom broom wanting the rest of us to act as attention surrogates for Mommy Dirtbag. So anyway Dirt Bag Roadhouse had a deck outside that allowed dogs. Monty and Riley were excited because everybody on the porch smelled like they had been rolling in poop just like Monty and Riley liked to do. So Deb and The Puppies got a table on the patio while I went inside to get us something to drink. I looked around the place trying to decide how many of these dirt bags I would need to whip before they learned to keep their opinions to themselves. But the dirt bags weren't as stupid as they looked but dang near as smelly. I walked up to the bar where a vicious looking dyke snarled at me and immediately recognized me as a person fond of bathing and getting haircuts. I have that trouble everywhere I go. I thought I was going to have to whip her wide butt too, but she realized she wanted to go home that night to her female (sort of) Mick Jagger looking "partner" and play Bull Dyke Monopoly or somesuch. So she snarled and begrudgingly gave me a Corona for Deb and a Diet Coke for me. I thought she was going to say something about the Diet Coke but she realized she wanted to put hotels on Miss Skank's Boardwalk later in the evening instead of rushing to the hospital for a Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy shoe in the buttectomy. It was a good thing too because I only brought the one pair of walking shoes and would need them. So I went back outside where Deb and The Puppies were and someone had gotten Monty and Riley a bowl of water. I sat down and waited for the bell to ring to start round one between The Dirt Bags and Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy, but it didn't happen. Instead we finished our drinks then walked back to The Love Boat and listened to more dirtbags with loud bikes pass by The Love Boat for the next 48 hours. The next day we had lunch with Deb's cousin and her husband that live there. No they don't ride a bike.
Deb's cousin gave us some tips on things to see around town. One of my most favorite was Red Rocks Amphitheater. Red Rocks was built into the side of a mountain during the first part of the 20th century. Red Rocks and has been legendary with musicians for decades. Red Rock has always been considered an honor for musicians to perform there. Red Rock's Museum was astounding with signed guitars and stuff from music legends. But you don't want to hear about that, right? Well we walked down to get a photo of the theater and an exercise class with hundreds of people was using the rowed seating as an exercise area. Before I go on you need to envision us standing looking down into the amphitheater with dozens of long rows of solid concrete benches going down to the stage. Got it? Okay. These people were jumping up on one row of seats then hopping up a level and doing the same thing over and over again while some jackass with a microphone told them to do it. I was a little perturbed that these people would screw up my pictureb but I got out my camera and looked through the viewfinder and focused the lens when I noticed the idjits were no longer jumping up on the seats but had now turned and were crawling down the seats with their butts up in the air pointed right at us. I kid you not they were crawling on their hands and knees down the seats. I got a picture of the idjits but can't post it until we get to Saskatoon, and I find the computer thing that will allow me to extract it from the camera's memory card. It is worth the wait as the, photo is hilarious.
We did some other stuff in the Golden/Denver area that I won't go into right now. Tomorrow we leave for the Black Hills of South Dakota where Mt. Rushmore is located. Have a great day and bye for now.
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