Camped at 145.2, in the woods next to a creek. Very light rain all day. All clouds. No wind.
Early this morning, at 12,000+ feet, while watching mama Ptarmigan with 6 adorable foraging chicks, a Pika worked his way over to Jim's shoe, climbed on top, looked around, and retreated. A minute later Pika came back, climbed up on the shoe and stated nibbling on Jim's pants, which Jim told him was not allowed. Pika retreated again. Then returned again, climbed on the shoe and looked around again. Adorable little creature. In Australia an Echidna took refuge between Jim's boots, hiding from scary things. Pika reminded us of Echidna, but Pika appeared fearless whereas Echidna was very wary and tucking into that safe hidden space between the boots.
Trying to hitch a ride to Leadville on Highway 24, several dozen cars and trucks went past. This is not Vermont, where rarely a car went by without stopping. And certainly not Turkey, where cars stopped to offer a ride even when we weren't trying to hitch. After about 15 minutes hitching, a lady stopped. Minnesota plates. Ah, make no mistake, Minnesotans are nice people. You betcha. All those Coloradans sped past, but grandma from Minnesota with her Leadville grandson gave us a lift. Apparently nobody told her that it's not safe for an old lady and a ten year old to let strangers into the car.
The laundromat in Leadville has coin-operated showers. Brilliant. We met an interesting hiker there, scruffy looking fellow with what appeared to be a disorganized collection of gear. He's walking the Colorado Trail from Denver to Salida to attend his 50th high school reunion! He lives in Georgia now, where he's a professor of Computer Science. Don't judge a book by its cover and all that. And a thought about laundromats, if you feel like you've lost touch with working-class America, you should start washing your clothes at a laundromat instead of in the privacy of your home. It's a good place to meet folks.
The pizza joint Tim recommended was in the heart of town, and we were at the laundromat and the next door Safeway a rainy mile away. That mile seemed a long walk given the rain, so we resorted to our old standard from Safeway: a roasted chicken, a bag of salad mix, and a pint of ice cream.
Hitching back to the trailhead again took several dozen cars and 15 minutes, in light rain. One truck zoomed past, passenger window rolled down and a young man screaming something at us. I believe he called us faggots, but not certain. Eventually I took off my Tilley hat, hoping my grey hair would give someone confidence that we were non-threatening. A couple cars later a woman of Jim's vintage stopped. She confirmed it was the grey-haired-lady image that did the trick! So now I know to show my head of hair while hitching.
We are happy and healthy, well fed, clean, and listening to raindrops on the tent.
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