Monday morning I packed a few things in my car and headed West toward Grand Junction, a cute little town along the Colorado river. This area is beautiful and is also known for the peaches in Palisade, CO.
Strangely, all of the streets were numbers and fractions, i.e. 34 3/8ths st. Also about the area, this amazing cliff/mountain is Mount-Garfield, and creates a colorful backdrop.
There was an orchard in Palisade that I visited and got a tour of.
High Country Orchard is owned by a married couple with two children. Their 15 year old son took me on the tour by myself in a golf cart. He drove really fast then would slam the breaks and stop the cart at the various tour points and raddle off scripted bits of information. Then we would sit in silence while he allowed me to look around. I'd ask simple questions, which he mostly answered by referring to his father as "dad", not "my dad" or "we do this..". Also to fill the voids in conversation I would point to mountains or vistas and would say something like, "wow this is beautiful" He would reply, every time, with "thank you."
After the tour, we lurched to a stop at the gift shop, where I purchased some peaches, had a wine tasting, and chatted with people from Jay, Vermont, the town of a favorite ski resort of my family's.
The road continued and lead me to Grand Junction, where I rented a bike for a couple hours and rode along the Colorado River.
It was so hot out, so I waded into the river which was warm, but so very muddy. After I returned the bikes, I arrived at the KOA that I would be staying at for the night. It was nice, had a pool, a pavillion, a firepit, potable water, and electricity at the tent site. Almost the whole campground was full.
I got my tent up just in time for the rain to start. 
While it rained, I sat under my pavilion on the middle of a picnic table surrounded by my stuff, and read my book. The family at the site next to mine was really friendly, and we spent a great deal of time chatting as well. Finally the rain passed and I could start the fire for my dinner. In the evening I sat by the fire reading.
Early to bed and early to rise, I was up at 530am. I started my fire, packed everything up, ate breakfast, then hit the road for the canyons.
First trail I started was Ute Canyon, which started at the top of this area you see pictured and had quick, steep switchbacks to the bottom. The trail was marked, "unimproved" to warn that it wasn't really a trail, but a suggestions of a direction to follow.
Once I reached the bottom of the canyon I followed something that resembled a trail. It was lined by tall green reeds which were bent over as if a long thick snake had run through the canyon on this same trail. This along with the slippy soappy texture of the clay that formed the path suggested a flash flood occurred during the rain the previous evening. Eventually the trail was impassable and I turned around.
It's beautiful there.
At one point I ducked a trail and found a rock ledge to sit on and have lunch. It was so beautiful and peaceful.
As I drove around the visitors center I could see this huge rock formation that I really wanted to get to the top of. It looked insurmountable, until I walked around the back and found an easy way up.
there was a perfect round perch for me which provided a great view..
that's my car, waaayyy down 'ere.
When I had my fill of exploring the park, I headed North. I was way ahead of schedule to meet up with Mike and Jocelyn, so I stopped at a visitors center off of the highway and asked if there was a state park with a lake or pool on the route to Salt Lake City (it was a very hot day and swimming sounded perfect). The man working was very helpful, gave me a map, then demanded I sign the visitors book. Moments like this are strange for me.. what should I put? Pittsburgh? Denver? California? This is when I feel most like a vagrant. I know where I'm from originally, but I haven't lived there for 10 months, so is it still home, or is that Denver now? I signed the book Pittsburgh, PA, because I know he didn't care about my vacillation, and he wanted somewhere far away. PA is much more exciting to see than Colorado for people visiting Utah, but it's stuff like that that makes me wonder how long I can keep up being a gypsy before I end up feeling more lost than adventurous.
On that note, I'm going to sleep. Later I will tell all about my visit with the Hartnetts :)
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