One could spend a lifetime exploring the Centennial state. I could. Give me an ATV, and I’ll spend two. It’s that beautiful. John Denver wasn’t full of it.

But, the prime directive of this journey was to make it to the Empire State and see what I could of America along the way. I’m not made of money, and there were other parameters upon me, like seeing a family member in the Great Plains of Colorado. My rendezvous was to be Sunday the 7th of June.

So, this Saturday the 6th of June in the year of Our Lord 2026 was to be my last day of “exploring” Colorado – or really just driving Colorado highways – before my Sunday rendezvous and my subsequent venture into the Cornhusker State.

And I was looking forward to the drive this Saturday. I would take us 34 through Rocky Mountain National Park, and go over the Continental Divide there, before coming off the mountains into the very flat part of Colorado. It’s not too hard to look forward to such a drive.

However, I’m going to speed things up a bit because I want to get to Nebraska. Plus, I’ve pushed as much romance for mountain majesty out of my brain as possible. You can only say you like it all so much.

But I did like my morning coffee at 9500 ft, again.

Anyways, I took US 40 eastward towards Granby, where I’d get on US 34. Though I’d spent the night somewhere on the Divide, I was back in the Colorado Basin, and would cross into the Atlantic Basin for good again at Rocky Mountain, and complete a drive I’d been wanting to do for years.

Back in 2010 my very cantankerous brother and I took a trip from Dallas to Rocky Mountain. I’ll spare you all details. I will, however, say there was “some” griping from him, and maybe some of it was because I was drunk driving to the Continental Divde with him at one point – I recall whisky that day. We didn’t make it because there was an accident at the Divide, and traffic was at a standstill for too long. After alleviating myself behind a boulder near the road (and having to get into a pushup position to hide myself from the hundreds of other people also stuck), I decided to turn around. No Divide that day.

But today, soberly, I would see it.

I arrived at Rocky Mountain around 1:00 p.m. During the summer, you must buy a permit to enter the Park between 9am and 2pm. The park is teeming with tourists and tourons in summer, and timed entry supposedly alleviates congestion. At 2pm I entered. Saw all the snowy, rocky mountains. Crossed the Divide. Got irritated by crowds and traffic, and decided to spend zero time exploring more of the Park.

Outside the east gate of Rocky Mountain is Estes Park, Colorado. Indeed, once upon a time Estes was probably gloriously charming, at any time of year. It still has a lot, but a bazillion tourists and tacky-bougie stores diminished that charm. No thanks. So onward eastward I traveled, but only after a plunge in Big Thompson Creek, which flows eastward out of Rocky Mountain NP and into the Platte River country north of Denver.

Before too long I was out of the mountains and into the plains. Evening was coming. I decided to get a hotel in Greeley, and was grateful to sleep in a bed.

On Sunday the 7th I made that rendezvous with the family member. But I’ll not write about it here.

I’ll just skip to Nebraska in the next blog.