Date:         Mon, 11 Sep 1995 15:00:10 -0700 (PDT)
Sender:       Vanagon Mailing List <vanagon@vanagon.com>
From:         Jeff Rosen <jeffro@u.washington.edu>
Subject:      From Aspen to Casper, leg #4 (LONG)

Inspiration has struck again, friends:
Here's the first installment of the last 1/2 of the trip.  What trip?
The 8,422 mile trip my wife and I took this summer in our '78 Westfalia, of 
course.

	Morning at the RV Park in Basalt, Colorado.  Had a nice ring to 
it, but breakfast in Aspen sounded better.  So with little adieu, Tammy 
and I packed up the gear and prepared to go mobile once again.  After 2 
weeks on the road we had developed a pattern for packing the bus- from the
bedding to the shovel, every item had a little home.
	My wife had gotten 3 weeks off from work for the trip.  We knew 
right from the start that wasn't long enough.  So now, before truckin' up 
to Aspen, she would call and ask for another week.  She went over to the 
pay phone, I gave her a look of nervous encouragement, and she dialed the 
fateful numbers.  I couldn't watch.  If we got more time we'd see so much 
more-- if we did not, we had one week left.  Which meant we'd begin 
heading back  right away.
	She came back to the camper with a smile.
	Aspen was bustling with activity, and made us wish we brought our 
bikes.  Trails everywhere.  By trip's end we saw Taos, Aspen, Park City, 
Jackson Hole and Sun Valley- all seemed just as busy during those summer 
months as you'd imagine them mid-winter.
	Ate lunch at Johnny McGuires.  We shared an enormous "Fatty:" it 
looked like it sounds.  We got the grub, went back to the bus, and set up 
the little cabin-area table right in our parking spot, with a great view 
of the slopes.
	From Aspen it was uphill.  Like way uphill.  We wound through 
thick forests of Spruce and, appropriately, Aspen on the road to 
Independance Pass.  Stopped at really old mining ghost town, hiked 
around.  Not so easy at 10,000 feet.  Mount Rainier back home is 14,411 
feet, so we figured we'd be near the top!  The pass, and the highest 
elevation reached on our journey, was at 12,000 feet.  The bus did just fine.
Before leaving home, this guy at the FLAPS said he had a bus, same year 
as mine, that he took on a similar adventure through Colorado.  
"Elevation blew the vacuum hoses right off!", he'd exclaimed.  He advised 
me to buy a few extra hose clamps just in case, but this never happened 
to Kermit.  
	Here we were, two miles above sea level, and everyone gets so 
excited about Denver's elevation at one mile.  We'd yet to reach Denver, 
but we'd been above a mile high at many points along the way.  Denver 
must get the "mile-high city" moniker from being the *biggest* city at 
that elevation.
	Crossed the Continental Divide again and snaked downward.  By the 
time we reached Denver (after stopping to fish, check out more abandoned 
mining ghost-towns, etc.), it was near dusk.  We hadn't seen a sizeable 
city since Phoenix 10 days before, and hadn't missed a damn thing.  
They're all the same.  Traffic, homelessness, pissed off people-- a mess.
After driving in circles (read- lost) for an hour, we ended up in Golden.
Coors is to Golden what Boeing is to Seattle.  Everyone works there.  The 
town was pretty cute, too.  We looked for camping- none.  Looked for a motel-
no vacancy.  Decided to stop, get a beer, and eat dinner.  Went to Woody's
Woodfired Pizza and ate Monkeybread- YUM!  I asked a waiter about camping 
in the area, and before long we had every employee in that place coming 
by with suggestions/questions for those "hippies from Seattle."  A waitress
brought us free beer, not Coors (this was the farthest point east that 
anyone had heard of a microbrew), and boy was it fun!
	So much fun we made it no farther upon walking out the door than 
to our van.  Closed the curtains, and crashed out.
	Morning was hell.  Tammy and I had shared so much on our journey, 
and now we were experiencing simultaneous hangovers.  Sticky, hot, 
slept-in-the-bus hangovers.  We hit the road at 6:30am, thankful we 
didn't get ticketed in our parking lot campsite...
	Coffee'd up in Boulder (twice), and began to feel better.  Went 
east, through foothills of the Rocky Mtn.s, to where the Great Plains begin.
Flat.  And lotsa corn.  Several hours later, we were in Nebraska-- same deal.
Flat, corn.  Pulled off at a rest area to check out a visitor center.  
The grandmother (and her grandkids) working inside were very nice.  We 
saw that where Nebraska lacks breathtaking geography she makes up for it 
with congeniality.  They gave us a stack of complimentary maps and 
matches, and we set out for their advised fun-spot: Lake McConoughy.  AKA 
Big Mac, the lake you can't see across.  It wasn't *that* wide, but it 
was 40 miles long.  A very unexpected find in the middle of the flatlands.
Bought a 2-day pass for $6 at a mini-mart, and went looking for a spot.  
Saw wild turkey, many a bunny, but no spot.  Then the bus sputtered, 
chugged, and died.
	Two-lane road, middle of nowhere, and the bus won't go.  
Considering the symptoms (it would idle but not respond to the 
accelerator- pushing on the gas seemed to kill it), I check out the 
temperamental distributor.  Rotor has gotten way cruddy, so I lightly 
sand it back to gleaming metal.  Points are loose, too.  Simple fixes, 
plus an added 1/2 quart of 20w50 and we're in business.
	Found a shoreline spot down a cow road.  Great cow close-ups for 
Tammy.  At the shore, the sand looks firm but isn't, and we get kinda stuck.
Luckily, a family is camping nearby and offers to push us out.  I grab 
the shovel, dig down to firmer medium, and jump back in.  With many 
layings-on of hands, the bus springs free.  We thank our neighbors from 
Lincoln, and set up home.  It's dark, so we use lantern light to cook up 
our tacos.  Fresh vegees- the works.  A daylong hangover really builds up 
the appetite (once you can think about solid food again without puking).
As Tam finishes the slicing, and I finish the dicing, we are pummeled by
cicadas.
	Big brown Cicadas rain down from the trees above.  "Must be 
attracted to the lantern," I yell.  Tammy's already gathered most everything
and is telling me to grab the rest and get my butt inside.  I do, and we eats
indoors.
	We left the next day, headed north to South Dakota.  Along the 
way we listen to some country music.  "The guvmint's billin' me, for killin'
me...", and "Girl ya aint much fun since I stopped drinkin'".  We got 
really into it!  Dancing in our seats, kinda like airplane aerobics.
	Saw and read several Crazy Horse memorials, and site of Wounded Knee.
There, we met a biker-couple traveling likewise 'round the country.  They 
liked the bus, we liked their bike.  I think we both secretly wondered 
what it must be like to travel in the mode of the other...
	Went through the Badlands in South Dakota, and the Sioux reservation.
Met really cute and friendly Sioux children with huge smiles.  Sundown, 
and nothing in site but the KOA.  Don't like 'em, but we are too tired to 
hunt for exciting accomodations in the wild.  We pay, call home to thank 
family for watching the cats, and take our place among the behemoth 
Winnebagos.
	Sunrise marks the stampede for the showers.  And for the free 
pancake breakfast.  We get pancakes, people-watch, and then head for the 
now-cleared out showers.  Showered, ready for adventure.
	We're in Rapid City, and darn it, we're going to Bear Country, U.S.A.
	It's just down the way from Mount Rushmore, says the brochure, 
and it's loads of fun!  Who could resist?  On arrival, the booth 
attendant cheerfully takes our $10 (ouch), and informs me I can either 
take the bra off the bus or sign a waiver.  The animals sometimes get 
caught in nose-bras, she explains with a smile.  Off with the bra!
	And into the melee.  Traffic in Bear Country- I'm just waiting 
for the kaboom of my engine as the overworked brute finally caves in.  
Somewhere along the way, Kermit's picked up a starter problem (turns out 
to be the solenoid, and is remedied by a Ford solenoid bypass setup).  So 
I cannot turn off the car.  See, with all these bears running around 
(about 200) I will not get out to compression start it should it be 
turned off.  The exit nears, and we're free.  Simultaneous sighs of relief-
and the windows can go down again.  
	Mount Rushmore is incredible.  And free:-)  Wonder how much longer 
that will last.  Plans are propbably being drafted for a cover for the 
whole hill, so folks can no longer drive by and view the thing without 
paying:-)   At any rate, the granite monument is spectacular.  Tam and I 
are seeing all these wonderful new sights, and we're groovin' on 'em!
	Stop at Keystone, and buy a Sturgis Harley Rally tee-shirt.  
Missed that madness by a week.  Thousands of H.D.'s converging on one 
tiny town?  25th annual this year, so it must be good all around.
	Stay the night in Pine Haven, Wyoming, on the Keyhole Resevoir.  See
pronghorn antelope and deer everwhere.  Friendly folks ask if we need a 
lift as we walk to pay at the pay station.  We realize everone is 
leaving- the park must be primarily day-use.  The town of Pine Haven, 
pop. 150, glitters in the distance, and on our walk back to the campsite 
we are alone.  Stoke up the fire, cook vittles, eat and retire.  A fine 
day we've had.
	We spent the next day floating aimlessly in our inflatable raft, 
fishing, and jumping off things.  Around 4pm, we decide to head into town.
We stop at the local watering hole and enjoy the cool air's touch on our 
sunburned bodies.  The bartender, a rough-looking Wyoming woman 
accidentally brings us a second round of Coors, and upon realizing we 
didn't ask for them, offers 'em "on the house."  More free beer?  Um, okay!
We leave with big plans of seeing our friend Tess in Casper that evening, 
but arrive there later than expected.  And I don't have her number.  And 
she isn't in the directory.  We decide to bag it and pull into another 
friendly KOA instead.  Sshhh... All the RV'ers are asleep.  Soon, we are too.


WAKE UP!  =)      Long, see?  Just like I warned ya.

-Jeff