On to Little Grassy (dirty, filthy) Lake

Sunday we woke to the blowing, snorting and neighing of the horses and the enthusiastic yee-hawing and giddeups of the cowboys and cowgirls surrounding our tent. All I know is that horse people are some of the friendliest, most laid back people around.

This campground was magical, and it was really REEEALY hard to leave. This place was so majestic that the horses could have been unicorns, and the people could have been fairies, and they could have been riding over rainbows as Brooke and I sat slumped over the picnic table drinking the beers we had schleped 30 miles. That's how slap happy and giddy exhauted we were, or maybe it was the after effects of the heatstroke. But, whatever the case, we loved it there, and in hindsight, we should have stuck around and accepted the offers to go horseback riding the next day.

Instead, we slowly packed up our things and made our way out of Hayes Canyon Campground and pedaled down the road toward Carbondale. We made pretty good time, and around lunch time we spotted a convience store and stopped to make our peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. We sat and ate, and watched gigantic RVs pull up and pull away. We laugh everytime at the motorized staircases that emerge to float the RV occupants down to the ground. These gigantic Rv's are really starting to resemble arcs or spaceships.

First, we made it to Devil's Kitchen Lake, which it turns out, is really creepy because there is no swiming, boating, or anything at all because of the full grown trees submerged beneath the surface. There was a immaculately groomed, totally empty campgroud to go along perfectly with the weirdo deserted picture perfect lake. It seemed like a setting for a horror movie. It had a creepy feel because of the blantant lack of activity, and it wasn't hard to imagine the trees coming to life at night to drag you under in your sleep. It looked deserted in the same way one would imigine the world after the human race has died off.

So, we moved on to the next campground and hoped for something with a less creepy feel. We ended up at the Little Grassy Lake Campground, which was an experience. Let's just say it was not as aesthetically pleasing as was the wonderland Hayes Canyon Campground, and it was certainly not immaculately groomed. This place was full of men who looked like they might blow at any moment. To go along with the angry men, there were chained pitbulls, overflowing dumpsters, and more ciggarete butts in our campsite then grass. Rather than falling asleep to the gentle sounds of horses, we fell asleep to a very intoxicated jerk spouting a shitstorm of profanities at his wife and children.

Melissa