Steve and Judy's Travels!

Weather update for Rawlins, Wyoming: high winds diminishing overnight, snow
ending, clear and very cold tomorrow morning. Sounds like traveling weather
to us.

Now it’s time to clarify. We’re warm and dry inside the motorhome.
Outside, the blizzard has hit. It’s a sideways snowing mess out there,
outside the windows. Wow, did we make a good decision not to move this
morning.

We’re reconsidering our travel plans. It didn’t look that bad here at
Rawlins last night, but Interstate 80 east of here was closed all night
because of snow and high winds. The Interstate is open this morning, but
road conditions are snowing, slick, and high winds. We’re going to stay
here, warm and dry until conditions improve.

The point of being in Bend was to get a few things taken care of on the
motorhome. It took a few days. Day one, the old couch is gone, the new one is in, the drop down visor, and
some interior curtains got fixed. Day two, an alignment correction on the
big laser guided alignment machine to make the rig handle as well as it
should. Day three, snap-on external sunshades to cut down the solar gain
from Imax when we’re parked. Day four, an improved tow-car braking system
and some paint touch-up on the outside cabinet door I dinged. Friday, out
of here, across the Oregon desert, headed for a new client in Woodland Park,
Colorado. Stopped for the night in Vale, Oregon. Saturday, continue across
the Great Basin in cloudy weather, through Idaho, stopping for the night in
Salt Lake City and a visit with Uncle Johnnie. Sunday, a short day through
deteriorating weather to stop for the night in Rawlins, Wyoming and watch
the Broncos crush the hated Raiders (it actually worked out that way).
Cold, snowy, and windy all day, but the roads stayed dry. The good news is,
it was a tail wind. Tonight, we’re rocking and rolling in high wind and thirty degrees.
Tomorrow, wind and snow permitting, the Boulder County Fairgrounds and
dinner with Brian, Becky, and family.

A frigid dawn. Three varied thrushes on the ground before the robins were
even awake. California Quail flapping, gliding, one by one, down from the
trees they roosted in for the night to land in the brushy area beside us.
Landing on the grass, scurrying into the bushes, careful not to reveal their
presence, then announcing it loudly with their charming calls. Probably
forty of them altogether. This sparsely populated RV Park really is a park.