As you know, I was feeling a little nutty when I pulled into Durango. The drive was very nice, but I just didn’t feel like showing more scenery pics. I’ll post some today, though.
The town of Durango was surprising. I had read in my Lonely Planet guide that it was liberal, but I’m not sure I was prepared and found the pierced, tattoo’ed, purple-haired crowd almost jarring. Had I been somewhere in California, it would have been expected, but these scenes seemed almost out of place in this mountain town. I was still really wanting and needing the whole cowboy, shoot ‘em up, maverick vibe. I hadn’t yet gotten my fix, and felt a little like I had moved into Seattle-land.
I went into town the first night, and the restaurant that I chose to have dinner at, Off the Vine, was off the books, as in, closed, kaput, no longer in business. It had just the atmosphere and food I was looking for, too, so I was pretty disappointed. I scoured the dining guide for something similar, and decided on a place called the Mahogany Grille. Their menu was decidedly eclectic, had some Asian influence, and sounded downright yummy. I walked about six blocks to get there, and felt very safe in their downtown area.
During the course of the walk, I saw a lot of cute shops. Vintage, underwear, and of course, Native American, cowboy, and southwestern art and jewelry. I kind of promised myself I’d buy myself something cool at this location. Finally. I still hadn’t bought a thing.
When I got to the restaurant, it was packed to the gills, and I asked if they had a bar, as I detest sitting by myself, which forces you, of course, to be isolated. I like to sit at the bar because of the camaraderie and the fact that someone was likely to talk to me – and as I’ve said multiple times, I’m starved for conversation. So I asked where the bar was, and the host pointed me in the right direction.
Some of the downtown in Durango is old, and some of it is made to look old. The bar at the Mahogany Grille is called The Office Spiritorium, and it is connected to the Strater Hotel, an old historic hotel in town, along with the Belle Grande Saloon. I went to open the door that separates the restaurant from "The Office," and pushed when I should have pulled, and struggled with it for a moment like the dork that I am, and then finally got it right. As soon as I got it open, I saw a guy with an outback hat on looking at me, and I just thought "Ugh," and walked to the other side of the bar. I can feel eyes on me, and know immediately when someone is going to try to talk to me or hit on me. This guy looked a little rough, with facial hair, and out of the corner of my eye, I could have sworn he was a ragged 47 years old, at least.
I sat down, and noticed him continuing to look at me. It made me very uncomfortable, and it took the bartenders a good 15 minutes to wait on me, because they were pretty busy (although the bar only sat about 7 people, they were also bartending for the restaurant and bar area). The fifteen minute wait seemed like an hour with Hairy Dirtball staring at me down at the other side of the bar. When I finally got my drink, he had stopped staring, and I looked again at him to just size him up. I realized that he was not as old or as ragged as I had initially thought; I had looked at him out of the corner of my eye and saw the facial hair and just made an assumption about his age and ruggedness. He wasn’t bad looking, but he wasn’t particularly compelling, either. As I looked at him, I realized that he bore a great resemblance to the boyfriend I had, and lived with, when I lived in Arkansas.
I was looking at him, when he looked back at me. I looked away, and he stared at me for quite some time, then when he finally looked away, I looked back at him. Suspiciously.
As I really looked at him, I noticed that he had the exact same crook nose as my old boyfriend from Arkansas. Then, I noticed that he had exactly the same browbone that my old boyfriend from Arkansas had.
Could it be him?? It was hard to tell. It had been 11 years since I’d seen him last.
So, we continued to play the game, with me checking him out until he looked at me, at which point I would promptly look away and act uninterested, and then him checking me out until I couldn’t stand it anymore, and looked at him, at which point he would then promptly look away.
It just seemed a little too…. coincidental. What, after all, would HE be doing in Durango? He moved back to Ohio, I knew, after I moved back to PA from Arkansas. It couldn’t possibly be him. Right? How could it be him??
I continued my intense analysis. He had almost white blond the last I saw him, the sun did that to his hair over the summer, and had a receding hairline. He had the outback hat on, so I couldn’t see his hair or his hairline, but his facial hair was reddish-brown. That was Rod, for sure. He had a tendency toward reddish facial hair. So, that checked out. But, the way he was dressed? An outback hat? Seriously?? The last I knew, he was wakeboarder/snowboarder dude. I had a hard time figuring out the outback hat and button down denim shirt. And the Durango connection.
So, I looked at his hands. Oh, my gosh, they were Rod’s hands!! They seemed to have a bit more hair on them than when I had last seen them, like, old man hairy fingers, but it had, after all, been 11 years.
The next thing I analyzed was what he was drinking: This was a very, very, VERY good clue. White wine. Now, tell me, what rugged looking, facial hair sporting, denim shirt wearing man in Durango, CO, drinks white wine? ODD CHOICE OF BEVERAGE. Then, I remembered: Rod didn’t like beer, didn’t drink beer. Veddy interesting! And, what we were drinking, what I was drinking, right around when we broke up, was white wine. I influenced a lot of his choices, including what he drank, at that time. It was interesting to see that that choice stuck. Especially because I had since moved on and evolved. I was, after all, drinking red wine. (LOL Very evolved and different from white wine!)
I thought about going over and asking his name. I thought about trying to engage him in conversation. However, as I thought about doing that, I replayed our relationship in my mind, and realized that I had no real desire to talk to him. We’d reminisce for about 10 minutes, at which point the conversation would stop and we’d end up where we were all those years ago: we’d just run out of interest in each other, really. I guess we grew out of each other. I just had no desire to make the effort only to have the excitement of seeing an old "friend" get crushed under the reality of the fact that we didn’t connect with other much at the time that we parted – and likely still wouldn’t. I can be the bigger person, but I guess I didn’t really want to know what his life had materialized into since we split. Maybe that sounds bad, but I just didn’t want to make him feel badly if things hadn’t worked out well for him.
Not that they have for me, but, still…..!
So, I waited it out. I knew he probably wouldn’t say anything to me, because I had two men come in and sit down beside me in succession and talk to me. The thing is, I told these men my name, told them where I was from ("I’m from a small town in PA, but lived in Pittsburgh for about 10 years, and I just moved to Ohio"), and said multiple things that would have given Rod the information that he needed to figure out who I was. So, I thought that he could make the move. But maybe he felt like I did, and didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know – or perhaps could feel badly all over again by interfacing with me. It was an unpleasant breakup, with him getting the brunt of it. If I were him, I wouldn’t want to re-live that kind of rejection, either (although in my defense, for old time’s sake – he was an ass to me and deserved to be rejected! I didn’t simply break his heart….!)
So, he finally made his move. He got up, hugged the waitress (hugged the waitress??), and left out the back door, into the Strater Hotel. Aha! So, he wasn’t a local. I summoned the waitress over, and said, "Hey, do you know that guy? Do you know his name? I swear that’s my ex-boyfriend, but it’s been 11 years since I’ve seen him, and I’m just not positive that’s him."
She said, "Oh, you know what, I can’t remember his name. I can tell you, though, that he’s here from Arkansas and is hunting with a red haired cousin."
Bingo.
It was him. I’d met the red haired cousin before. And Rod may or may not live in AR now, but it would be just like him to say that he did just because he’d view it as sounding more interesting than Ohio.
So, anyway, I planned to go back the next night, and I was going to say something if I saw him, but it just wasn’t a priority, and I let it go. I had a feeling the whole way to Durango that I was going to run into someone I knew – I just wouldn’t have imagined in a million years that it would have been "Rod Bod" Obrecht.
Ha!
Anyway, the town of Durango is charming, and lovely, and the people are quite nice. I had a great conversation with a guy named Johnny yesterday at Steamworks Brewery while I had wings and a few beers. We talked politics and life. It was good to do something other than make small talk with someone. We talked big stuff. He hates George Bush as much as I do.
I planned to do some shopping, but then figured I’d go check on my cats and would come back later for to shop and grab some dinner. I never ended up going back, as I fell asleep around 5:30pm and didn’t wake up until 9:30pm (that’s what I get for drinking beers in the middle of the day!). So, then, of course, I couldn’t sleep last night, so the drive to Arizona today was fun.
Not really.
I was nodding off on the latter part of the trip!
Anyway, got into Arizona today, and it was pretty cool. The scenery was unlike anything I had seen before, being from the east. I’d seen pictures, of course, but it’s completely different when you see it in person. COMPLETELY different. I saw bits of the Grand Canyon today, but am going back tomorrow to do it right. Or, as right as I can with the camper on the back. I can’t find a campground up by the park, and tonight, I’m staying in…..
The Fred Flintstone Campground. Yes, they call this Bedrock City, and they have laundry, showers, a gift shop, a restaurant, and a store, all built and decorated to look just like the Flintstones neighborhood. There’s a bone designating every campsite. Funny, yes. But also very, very, VERY creepy when there’s no where else to stay, and the guy behind the counter reminds you very, very much of the guy Meryl Streep was snorting orchid powder with in the movie "Adaptation" - Chris Cooper, who played John Laroche (he was also Col. Frank Fitts in American Beauty, how's that for creepy?!). He and his buddy were in the Flintstone store watching a football game when I came in. It was bizarre. And there’s no reason for this to BE a FLINTSTONE campground – like, I guess you have to have a gimmick, but it’s the ONLY campground around for MILES. It’s not like it’s around some kiddie amusement park or anything. I just find it very, very, very strange. Creepy. Luckily, a lot of the overflow from the park is ending up down here, so I’m not alone down here in CreepRock.
Anyway, what I saw of the Grand Canyon today is SERIOUSLY unbelievable. SERIOUSLY unbelievable. Jaw-dropping, awe-inspiring, incredible. Definitely the pinnacle of my trip so far. And this is kind of a detour! I didn’t think I was going to get to see it, but it was right by my other destination, Sedona, so I thought, "Why not?" I’m really going to enjoy going through the the park tomorrow.
And today, SO freakin’ funny, although, watch me do the same thing tomorrow: Someone had been looking at the view… and looking at the view…. And looking at the view…. And veered over toward the canyon and ran smack into a tree!! THAT’s how amazing this view is. You’re looking, and you can take your eyes off of it. I’m really looking forward to it.
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