Day 7 -- Peacock Meadows to Lathrop State Park, Colorado -- 116 Miles

Well, as my dear mother used to say, today was a “real humdinger!” But first I’ll have to bring you up to date on last night’s camp in Peacock Meadow on the east side of Wolf Creek Pass

As so often happens to us on these sojourns across America, we were searching for a camp we had seen in the Good Sam guide book and sort of stumbled into Peacock Meadows quite by accident. By then we were both tired of driving AND ready to unwind after ascending and then descending the steep and daunting highway over Wolf Creek Pass.

The camp didn’t look like much as we rolled up next to the office and stopped. As I got out and approached, I was immediately put off by the sign on the door which announced that the manager was off patrolling the grounds, or something like that, and no one was there to check me in. A scan of the several dozen spaces which hugged a gentle hillside to the north of the office revealed no movement and no such manager in sight.

I got back in the truck and told Concetta that we would just pick out a spot, since the park was largely empty, and we’d let the manager find us later. And this is what we did, or at least tried to do. Seconds after rolling away from the office and down the gentle slope to the the first string of camps, the manager miraculously appeared right in front of us and halted our progress.

He threw open the window cover of his ATV and said, “where are you going?”

I simply told him what we had planned to do.

Didn’t you see the list of available spaces?” he asked.

”Nope,” I said. “I just figured that most of the spaces seemed empty and we’d just find one we liked.”

With a slight edge to his voice the manager said, “Well, there’s really only about five available,” and at that point he proceeded to enumerate each one of the empty spaces and point out there location.

I told him that I guessed that space 43 would do.

”Okay,” the manager said. “Wait right here.” And then he went charging off in his ATV to do God knows what and then returned to guide us to the spot.

By this time the guy had began to soften his demeanor, and I actually began to like him. He led us around the park past a couple of score of empty spaces and then helped guide us into space 43. After I had backed the rig into the space, the manager, whose name was Ron, and I got into the ATV together, and he took me up to the office to get the check-in envelope. By the time we had returned to the rig to get a check from Concetta, he and I were best buddies, which we remained for the remainder of our stay. We talked extensively, as did he and Concetta.

Turns out he was a contractor in New Jersey until the real estate crash in 2008 which effectively put him out of business. At that point he and his wife pointed their noses west and ended up in southern Colorado as camp hosts. Ron ran a scrupulously clean and tidy camp, which was true of even the laundry facility. The camp was pretty bare bones, but it was quiet, peaceful, and located in a beautiful valley beside a meadow and running river. It was so nice that we really hated to leave this morning, and we truly hope we will be able to return someday.

Today main’s objective was to find a tire shop to take a look at our suddenly alarmingly worn right front tire. Motor homes, they tell me, are notoriously hard on front tires and ours was no exception. As we traveled through villages like South Fork and Del Norte on Route 160 in southern Colorado, we diligently scanned both sides of the street for tire stores. But it wasn’t until we reached Alamosa that we found a store that could help us.

I pulled the rig into the parking lot of “America’s Auto Care and Tire” and smiled when I saw that their tire bays were not all occupied. As I parked near the edge of the tire store’s lot, I cranked over the wheel before turning off the engine so a technician could see the part of our tire that had concerned me. When I got out and looked at the tire I nearly quit breathing. The inner edge of the right front tire was down to the fabric. I decided on the spot that the rig was going to get to new front tires if the store had the size we needed and no excuses.

To make a long story short, America’s Auto Care and Tire DID have our size of tire and those folks literally treated us like royalty. I worked with a couple of employees whose names were Darien and Missy, and they treated us like family the whole time we were there. Not only did they rush us right in and get started on our project, but they finished so swiftly that we barely had time to finish our lunch, which we ate while the tire changers were busy. In total, I probably spoke with four or five of their people and each and every one of them was courteous, professional, and extremely helpful. I was so impressed that I told them I was taking the whole crew to lunch and I handed them a fifty to cover at least some of the cost. Should you ever be cruising through southern Colorado on Route 160, keep them in mind for their excellent service.

Breathing much easier with brand new tires on the front of the rig, it was time to play. Very soon after leaving the tire episode in Alamosa, we came to a turnoff announcing the existence of Fort Garland nearby. Naturally, we immediately turned right and soon were parked next to the museum.

As sometimes happens, the entrance to Fort Garland wasn’t exactly impressive, however once we started on the tour we were totally blown away. Fort Garand, which existed from 1858 to 1883, was for a time the home of one Kit Carson, whose name you may recognize from our home town of Carson City, Nevada.

The Fort is very plain and unimpressive from the outside, but the job the volunteers and docents have done on the inside of the various fort buildings is absolutely astounding in its completeness. Much of the adobe walls of the various buildings are still there, as is much of the wood-timbered roof rafters and sheeting.

Inside the various buildings are everything from life-sized exhibits of arms, uniforms, and everyday living utensils, to actual furniture. In some buildings incredibly crafted dioramas of life at the fort and surrounding ranches are depicted. I was so impressed I could hardly keep my finger off the shutter button.

After the Civil War, from 1866 to 1867, Kit Carson commanded the New Mexico Volunteers at Fort Garland. As the brochure says, “Drawing on his knowledge of American Indian languages and culture, Kit aided Chief Ouray and other Ute leaders in the negotiations that created the Ute reservation."

Even more interesting, African-American cavalrymen, the famed “Buffalo Soldiers,” served at Fort Garland between 1876 and 1879, and the museum includes a whole room devoted to the Buffalo Soldiers’ experience at Fort Garland.

After Fort Garland, we needed to conclude our amazing day by finding a suitable camp for the night. Checking the Good Sam book, we found that just up the road a few miles was a state camp known as Lathrop State Park. Since it was the only camp in our immediate vicinity, we set our course for Lathrop and found it without difficulty.

On the down side, our electrical surge protector strenuously objected to the power coming out of the 30 amp outlet at our site, so right now we’re just using the 110 volt which seems to be working fine. There’s no water here, but fortunately I topped up the onboard tank this morning so we have plenty of water. No running water, reduced electricity, and we’ll have to use the dump station tomorrow morning when we leave, however the scenery here in this camp is absolutely stunning. We’re completely surrounded by a forest of vibrant green junipers and way off in the distance is the snow-covered, matterhorn-like peak of 13,625 foot West Spanish Peak. What more could you ask for?