It's hard to ignore a one track mind

Clicking the pics at Colorado altitude can make you dizzy if you click too fast.

A smoky morning at Storrie Lake state Park.

Instead of going through Salida as I had considered, I went the usual way, straight up I-25 until I get to Denver. I tried to fight it, but my one-track mind won again.

It will be great to see my family again and get a home-cooked meal. I get tired of my cooking; if you can call it that, it's mostly just warming things up, which keeps it simple for me and without a lot of ingredients that I may only use once, and I don't have a bunch of dishwashing to do, which I don't like, and I don't waste a lot of water rinsing.

Old desert rats like myself don't wash dishes; we rub some sand in the pot to clean it out, dump the sand, and I'm ready to cook again. And if there's a little desert sand in my next pot of soup, it's useful to know that desert sand is full of vitamins, minerals, and Tarantulas.

I sure have a lot to think about when I get back to my daughter's house; mainly, I need some new glasses, and I need to figure out what to do about a different camper to full-time in. Figuring out my glasses situation will be simple; I just have to make an appointment. But if cataracts come back into the picture with the eye doctor, things will start getting complicated again.

What to do about the campers is my biggest concern; my daughter doesn't have the room, or the desire, to have three campers sitting around in the yard. So I have to figure out the logistics of how this is going to work. If I sell the bronco first, I won't have a highly mobile camper to take mini-vacations into the mountains with that I enjoy in the summer. But, on the other hand, if I sell the Arctic Fox first, I will have to live in the bronco until I can find a regular slide-in camper, and six months of living in the bronco already seems like enough to me.

But it appears the only thing I can do is 86 the bronco and live in the Arctic Fox until I can find a bronco replacement. Selling the Arctic Fox will also be complicated because I've got to take out all my stuff to sell it, and I don't have a place to put any of it. I won't have room in the bronco replacement, so I'll have to figure out something about how to deal with all that.

It sounds like this will be a busy summer for me, and I had much rather be relaxing; I hope I can get it all done so I won't have to drag the Arctic Fox around next winter.

Theboondork

One of the airplanes at the US Air Force Academy that the students learn how to parachute out of. And If your going to be a pilot, that's a handy thing to know.

The U.S. Air Force Academy campus. If you're not familiar with the Air Force Academy its like a regular college except the requirements for entrance are a wee bit different.

Yes, they have to be smart, there going to be taking the normal college courses just like in regular colleges. But instead of a bunch of useless drivel that you find in a lot of schools curriculum, at the Air Force Academy you learn how to fly and navigate airplanes.

So the requirements for admission goes beyond your intelligence, which would would be enough to get you into any college in the country. You also have to be brave, a leader, in excellent physical condition, of high moral character; and, oh yeah, willing to die for your country... I don't think you'll find that in any Ivy League schools, just look at the graduates THEY turn out.

This is another Air Force Academy airplane that trains the students to bail out. I took a picture of it because it's painted like a World War II aircraft, and those stripe markings remind me of the markings on airplanes during the Normandy invasion.

The Air Force Academy football stadium. Home to the Fighting Falcons.

The first thing the students at the US Air Force Academy learn to fly is gliders.