In preparation for my upcoming gallery show and to allow myself some time to think, I set out Sunday down Highway 36 to take some photos.
I spent far too much time over the weekend obsessing about my unringing cell phone and the 12 million things waiting for me on my desk this morning. I got out of my car in Last Chance, CO, and took some uninspired photos of the old Dairy King. I doubt they will be appearing at a gallery near you any time soon. As I was making my way back to my car, two gentlemen in an expensive SUV pulled up next to me. They had spent the day walking at the racetrack between Byers and Last Chance that looks a bit like aliens set it in the middle of a pasture as an inside joke. Regardless, they had grown peckish at the track and wondered if there was a restaurant nearby. I don't know, dear readers, how familliar you might be with Last Chance, Colorado, but there are no eating establishments open on a Sunday afternoon. The gentlemen looked at me like I was surely keeping from them the wherearabouts of the closest mall and they went on their way.
I returned to the open road and sat in Last Chance debating my options. Limon was 36 miles, Brush was 40 and I could always turn back toward home. When I pulled into Brush, I took a few photos, bought a cold Diet Dr. Pepper and returned home they way I came. I have few photos to show for my trip. I didn't come to any fabulous conclusions regarding my mangled love life nor did I write the fabled ending to a novel. I did, however, enjoy the ride.