Pueblo, CO - Bighorn National Forest, WO

Between the crazy wind, street sweepers, trains, and people waking me up to leave dog food and treats (some sort of offering to The Great Ron Dong)... I probably slept 2 hours. 

About 20 minutes out of town, we pull into a rest stop to have coffee and prepare for the drive.

I want to get to the forest and there is an ocean of nothing in between. 

And a gnarly headwind.

Colorado is pretty boring, for the most part.
I’m following the highway until northern Wyoming, so it’s rolling plains to the East... and mountains taunting us to the West.
Much prettier than the prettiest thing in Texas. 

Still, it doesn’t change.

And pretty that doesn’t change isn’t very exciting.

Today was a different kind of music day. 

I think I played If We Were Vampires upwards of 30 times.
Ok, maybe 100.
It was like 5 hours.
I still don’t remember the melody. I guess it got unexciting.

Then, I sang songs about America while filming the rain storms, mountains, grasses and Rodney’s stoicism. I used a play-voice that I deemed racist but continued on with and made sure to add an unnecessary run to every note. Rodney quickly went to bed. 
I won't be posting the videos. But they exist. In number.

After two hours of killing my boredom with the American Dream™, I decided it was time to cut across to the forest. 

I had been seeing dirt roads leading towards the mountains and the map showed us almost equal with Bighorn.
Rather than go up through Buffalo, we were going to find the back way in. 

This turned out to be the best decision I have made in living memory.

Crazy Woman Canyon Rd brought me to tears.
Rodney was in awe, and he spent the previous evening drawing pilgrims from all over the 5 and Dime’s expansive lot. 
I got lost 2-3 times and it was so good I didn’t care. 

Rodney saw a deer and realized there exist more mystical, 4-legged creatures than he has met in a dog park or on a farm.
Finally, the trees started.

Pine Trees clean the air SO. GOOD. (Fresher than yoooooou - flashback(theme))

They are my favorite thing after Rodney and given the lack of cell phone coverage here, I could very well never tell you that and be ok.

I’m nervous to admit that Rodney is my favorite thing. 

And not because I’m worried you might label me. Fuck your judgements. 

I’m nervous that when he dies I won’t be able to handle it. 

Grieving is admitting to yourself how much someone meant and didn’t mean.

As I was driving North today, there was something I remember feeling extremely excited about including here. I thought to myself, “Should I write this down, right now? No. It’s fine. It’s so good I’ll never forget it.”

And just like that, I went on singing nonsense. 

That was before CWCR and Bighorn. 

I drank the potion and my memory is different. I had to make room. 

There’s ABBA’s to keep the time. And there’s B.B. and A.B. 

It wouldn’t work if it hadn’t all happened.





We set up camp in a clearing and after a sudden wave of fear, I decide we aren't hammock camping. I'm sleeping in the truck with Rodney.
This is bat country.
Or bear country.
As I'm falling asleep, reflecting on the day, and trying to hold on to the memory of that first deep breath of pine-cleansed air, it comes back to me.
Is "Adopt Hitler" a good punk band name?
I told you yesterday, Big Decisions.