Tuesday, July 20, 1999

Howdy to our rock-and-roll friends. After spending 13 nights at Lake City, we are heading North on our route home. Jim suggested a path that took us through a deep canyon and a few small towns. This is when fate took over.

It was after 1 p.m., and we hadn’t eaten much. We passed through the small town of Crawford that probably had no more that 10 stores and a small church. There was a restaurant that stood out. It had a very nice garden with a green-green lawn and well-kept, colorful Colorado perennials. It was called Mad Dog Ranch Fountain Café. Edith asked that we stop to check it out.

She asked if I wanted to eat outside and I said that I liked the inside. I saw her expression and said that I thought the outside was better. Edith asked if I wanted to sit on the deck or lawn area and I said I liked the deck. I saw the expression on her face and said that I thought the lawn was better. We were seated near another couple, maybe six feet away. The woman was a slender blond, with sharp features, maybe in her late 40’s. He has a short beard, mainly gray and was wearing a fishing cap.

A friend stopped by and talked to the woman about the difficulty in growing tomatoes in the region. A man stopped and kiddingly accused the man sitting at the table of giving out the secret location where big trout were being caught. The woman commented that the baked beans she was having for lunch were especially good and the waitress teased the man that he hadn’t eaten the pickle that accompanied his special vegetarian sandwich (called the “The Geist” on the menu). The woman commented that he never eats pickles.

After the couple left, my super sleuth traveling companion told me that they were married and owned the restaurant.  Further, the young woman who was working nearby, wearing a Mad Dog shirt was their daughter. The waitress came by later and told us that we should feel honored. The people at the next table were Joe Cocker (“Love Lifts Us Up Where We Belong”) and his wife Pam (she runs the business side of things). He spends half of his time doing concerts and spends the rest of his time in Crawford. He has a 5,000 square foot ranch house and raises Watusi cattle. There were a few in a pen down the street and they have the longest horns that I’ve ever seen. They even have a web page (www.cocker.com/mdrfc).

After lunch ($6.95 for ribs that give Montgomery Inn serious competition), we headed for the Grand Mesa. We climbed from 5,000 to 10,000 feet in an easy, 30 minute drive. It was a sight that we had not seen before. It’s amazing how this very large mesa rises from the valley and is crowned with steep vertical sides. There was a special treat waiting for us as we drove the 12 miles to the “Land’s End” lookout. There were miles and miles of wildflowers just coming into bloom, including lots of Columbines. Land’s End was an appropriate name as we stood at the end of the mesa and looked into the valley far, far below.

We then headed in the direction of I-70 for our trip to Rifle. The landscape changed again as we drove through a long, steep canyons. This was an area where Wily Coyote might be found hiding behind a towering rock, waiting for his favorite target, the Roadrunner.

Rifle is at 5,000 feet and Lake City is 8,500 feet. It is much warmer here but dry. I haven’t used deodorant since I’ve been here. Maybe I don’t need it anymore. Cincinnati, here I come.

Next Day

Back