Yesterday, as we were leaving Gothenburg, Nebraska, we stopped for breakfast at a geodesic dome that was a restaurant called “Lisa’s Kitchen”. Lisa comes from Hong Kong and was pleased when we told her that our youngest child had been born there. One of her regulars, a man named Don, spoke to us. He told us all about what a wonderful person Lisa is and what a great friend. He told us that he was a Vietnam vet and was shocked when he came back from war and was called a “baby killer”. He said he thought at the time that he was doing the right thing. Don said he would fight on our shores to defend America, but that it is terrible that we are fighting overseas. “Our kids are getting killed and we are killing their people too”. Don went on to say he didn’t blame President Obama at all. Said he feels sorry for Obama and the mess he has to deal with. Don has seen a lot of life; trouble with drugs and his health. In and out of jail. Married 8 times. Don said his wife now is a therapist and she is wonderful. I asked Don how old he is and he said he is 75. Nick thanked him for his service to our country. I am glad we met Don, he’s an all American man.
Driving, and seeing this amazing country we are lucky enough to live in.
Today we drove from Denver across the state of Colorado and are now in Grand Junction, Colorado, in yet another KOA campground. This time we have a "lodge" which is a cabin with a kitchenette and a bathroom!
Driving in to Denver yesterday I marveled at the mountains that are such a beautiful backdrop for the city. They looked hazy, which may be the result of all the wild fires Colorado has had recently.
As we drove west, the scenery got more spectacular at every turn. The mountains were bigger and the elevation we drove at rose. The traffic was fairly light which helps too. I am not sure I can even describe everything without using so many superlatives that I sound terribly trite.
The mountain villages with ski resorts look so cozy, but I cannot imagine skiing down such high slopes.
The mountains became steeper and we were in a canyon (the name escapes me). It felt like being in the Grand Canyon. I took loads of pictures, but am too tired to load any up right now.
We did stop for a break, in a small village strip mall, and went to Starbucks. There were a dozen or so Harleys in the parking lot, their drivers sitting and drinking their coffee. The Starbucks guy told me that the group had been to Sturgis.
I always think of my big brother, Dale when I see Harley Davidsons. I feel compelled to talk to the drivers, but usually don’t. Today,when they all started their engines with that distinctive, deep rumble, and started to head out, I started to cry. I wish Dale could still enjoy riding his big bike. I know that people say that he is lucky that he died doing what he loved. I don’t think so. I think lucky would be having him still here. He would only be 62 this year.