Author: Easin' Along

I always put together an itinerary spreadsheet for our RV trips, including the campground name, check-in/check-out dates, distance from the last campground, and any notes pertinent to our visit. To some, this might seem like information overload. Still, it is an essential tool that helps prevent gaps or overlaps in reservation bookings, lengthy drive times, campground phone numbers to use when delayed or a need to cancel, and information to share with family. I place a copy in a loose-leaf notebook with a tab for each stop along with a written reservation confirmation, magazine clippings, and notepaper.

Helen and I consider this exercise almost as much fun as the trip itself. We research the area we will visit and plan our activities (and meals) based on what we uncover in the planning phase. Nevertheless, it usually happens that when we plan the last week or so of any trip, that part of the process suffers from neglect, After all, we know that we have been away for several months, we’re ready to reconnect at home, so one-night stands are usually the order of the day. We made one exception on this journey.

When planning our route home, I noticed that the most direct route from Colorado Springs to Knoxville took us through Dodge City, Kansas. As a big fan of the television series Gunsmoke, back in the day, I thought it might be fun to spend a little more time there than the usual one-night rest stop. I booked three nights and looked forward to learning a bit about the rough and rowdy old west as portrayed on television in the 1960s.

Our home for this stop was the appropriately named Gunsmoke RV Park and conveniently located on the edge of town. The campground owners built the office and general store to resemble an old western town, which helped get us into the swing of things. Our campsite was spacious and offered a good amount of shade.

On our first day, we had an errand to run. While driving into Dodge, a rock hit our windshield and put a chip in the glass. I took Ruby to the glass repair shop and had a patch applied that did the job. The shop owner was an interesting person, and she walked around the office with a parrot sitting on her head the entire time. I feel sure Miss Kitty didn’t serve drinks at the Long Branch with a bird perched on her head.

Dodge City grew to prominence after the Civil War as a trading center. Merchants, cattle ranchers, trappers, and fur traders gathered in Dodge City to move or sell their wares, and the population grew extensively. As a result, Dodge attracted a fair number of gamblers, prostitutes, and outlaws as well. There were a few lawmen, but, for the most part, there was no law. Gunfights were common, and, in the early days of Dodge, the victims wound up buried on Boot Hill. After the glass repair, Helen and I visited the Boot Hill Museum, not far from the campground.

We spent an hour or more viewing the very well-done exhibits in the Museum. I found a lot of the history fascinating and reading about some of the wild west legends that lived in Dodge occupied a large part of my time there. Bat Masterson and Wyatt Erp were two of the most notable, and I was intrigued to learn that both had spent time flirting with the wrong side of the law. The producers of the “Wyatt Erp” television show failed to mention his brothel.

For fun, Helen and I also visited the Boot Hill Casino and Resort that evening. We diverted from historical norms and did not carry sidearms, but Helen did wear her new cowgirl hat. It turns out the hat was a good-luck charm, and she walked away from the casino a winner and a happy camper.

The next day, we visited Boot Hill Cemetery. Although the cemetery served the citizens of Dodge (particularly the dead ones) for only six years, the history is well-documented. Most of those buried there were poor or nameless and had no money for a proper burial. The departed arrived for burial wrapped in a blanket, fully clothed and buried with their boots on–hence the name “Boot Hill.” Gravediggers didn’t lack for work either. In the first year of Dodge City’s existence, 30 killings took place in a town of only 500 people.

I have some pictures of Boot Hill and the displays mounted there, including the cemetery’s history. There is no accurate record of the number of burials. After six years, Dodge City officials moved many of the bodies, but since most of the graves went unmarked, there is no way of determining how many remain to this day. Helen and I walked about, not knowing if some gunslinger lay resting below our feet.

Although a three-day stop is unusual for us when our home is calling, I’m glad we took the time to check this place out. The time spent learning about Boot Hill and the area adds context to all of those television shows of my youth. Now, in the words of Sheriff Matt Dillon, it’s time to “get out of Dodge.” We’re Easin’ Along.

As Helen and I began the fourth month of our RV trip through the northwest, we arrived at Chatfield State Park near Denver, Colorado.  It was hot–real hot! Daytime temperatures hovered around 100 degrees and remained there for the duration of our visit to a very nice State Park. 

The deer that grazed outside Dora (our fifth-wheel) didn’t seem to mind, but we only ventured out in the mornings or near sunset.  We began a morning hike in a nearby canyon but only walked a mile before turning around toward the direction of our truck air conditioner. For the remainder of our visit, we chose early morning bike rides as our exercise of choice.

Despite the heat, we enjoyed our visit immensely.  My niece, Katy, and her husband, Matt, live near Chatfield State Park and hosted Helen and me for dinner one evening.  Katy is one of my sister, LeAnn’s, twin daughters. We had a grand time and repaid the favor by inviting them to join us for drinks and dinner in Dora.

We spent one afternoon in the charming mountain village of Idaho Springs, Colorado. This place was a beehive of activity with young people playing games in the streets, shopping, and enjoying themselves in sidewalk cafes. Helen and I walked the town and also took in Bridal Veil Falls in a park one block off the main thoroughfare. We ventured into one thrift shop where Helen bought something–can’t remember what it was.

We left the heat of Denver and drove next to Colorado Springs, hopeful that an increase in elevation might offer cooler weather. Peregrine Pines FamCamp on the grounds of the United States Air Force Academy would be home for the next four days. I last visited the Academy almost thirty years ago and looked forward to camping there.

We also looked forward to spending time with Nancy and Jim, residents of Colorado Springs.  Nancy is a friend from Knoxville and Helen’s big sister from her sorority days at the University of Tennessee. When we lived in Germany, Nancy lived in a small town very close by, and we traveled together when we were young and adventurous.  While in Germany, Nancy’s son, Tim, was born and now is the senior pastor of a Presbyterian church in downtown Colorado Springs.  Helen and I had not seen Tim since he was an infant and looked forward to attending services at his church.

First Presbyterian has a sizeable congregation, and Pastor Tim leads four services every Sunday.  We attended one of the contemporary services.  I regret not having a video to share because Pastor Tim is a gifted minister, and Helen and I felt moved by the message he delivered that morning. It was a highlight of the trip.

Nancy told us that the cog train to Pikes Peak reopened recently after some renovations and suggested that we join her, Jim, and two grandsons, Peter, and Liam, for a ride to the top. We readily accepted and met them at the terminal the next day at noon. A large crowd assembled in the terminal beside the cog train sitting on an incline, and Pikes Peak loomed large above us and an hour or so away (Photo at top of page).

Unfortunately, we encountered another weather situation this day.  The heat of previous days moved out, and heavy clouds moved in. Our views from the train and the summit were not perfect, but not blocked completely. At one point on the way up, we sat on a sidetrack so the train moving down the mountain could pass.  I put my camera to work and photographed a curious Marmot, as well as a panoramic view of the valley below us.

The summit of Pikes Peak is over 14,000 feet above sea level, and the air is a bit thin at that elevation. When we walked off the train and climbed the steps to the viewing platforms, I felt both light-headed and oxygen-starved. The light-headedness soon passed, but I continued to struggle with the steps.

We only had about an hour at the summit before the next train arrived to take us back down the mountain.  I’m grateful for the experience and the opportunity to enjoy time with friends in a unique setting. Peter nodded off during the ride down, but I know he enjoyed the trip. Before leaving Colorado Springs, we shared a toast with Nancy and Jim and thanked them for showing us such a good time. We promised to stay in touch.

With this post, we wrap up another fun stop on the road less traveled. We’re on our way to Dodge City, Kansas, and we hope you’ll join us on Boot Hill.  Until then, we’re Easin’ Along.

When we put our itinerary together months ago, our plan for Cheyenne, Wyoming, was to camp in the Crow Creek FamCamp on F.E. Warren Air Force Base. Although retirees can book a campsite no more than 30 days out, we were not overly concerned and felt we would secure a spot as soon as the booking window opened. It wasn’t that easy.

When we called to make a reservation, the lady on the other end of the line just laughed. “Sir,” she said, “obviously, you didn’t know that the dates you want are during Frontier Days, and we have no sites available.” She was right. I did not have any idea that Frontier Days are a big deal, but I’m so glad we had the opportunity to learn all about the event firsthand.

Frontier Days, the World’s Largest outdoor rodeo and Western Celebration, took place this year from July 23rd to August 1st–the 125th year of the event. On the week before we arrived in Cheyenne, Helen tried once more to call Crow Creek to see if the impossible had happened, and someone canceled. Indeed, someone had, and we moved into a spacious campsite for four days to celebrate all things western.

Crow Creek, filled with veterans from all over the country, and the campground was buzzing. One group from Alabama was recovering from a long night after the Garth Brooks concert the previous evening. Scheduled throughout the week, a slate of shows included a star-studded lineup and culminated the last day with Blake Shelton on the stage. There were no tickets left for Frontier Night shows, although scalpers offered tickets to Blake Shelton for as much as $3,000.

On our first day, we opted for two events held on the base. The first, a precision riding demonstration, took place on the parade field. The Trotters, a snappily dressed group of six cowgirls and one cowboy, put on a show for us. One lady would call out commands, and the Trotters would move in the direction called. The riders did not know in advance what order would come next, but all horses moved uniformly without a hitch and impressed everyone in the audience.

We attended another event put on by a group representing the Buffalo Soldiers, African-American Regiments formed after the Civil War and stationed primarily in the western part of the country. This event gave young kids an opportunity to sit on a horse and gave parents a photo op. We took advantage of neither chance but did learn much about the contribution of the Buffalo Soldier to our country as it advanced westward.

Back in the campground, we learned that tickets for the “Daddy of “Em All” Rodeo were available at the gate. Neither of us had ever been to a rodeo, and I jumped at the opportunity. A shuttle bus picked us up at the base entrance and took us about a mile to the Fairgrounds. The ticket lines were long but moved swiftly. Helen and I obtained seats in an upper deck. We were some distance away but had an unobstructed view of the action.

For the next two hours, we watched a heckuva show. The bull riders went first, and all I could think about was, “Why would anybody want to do that?” The bulls were enormous, and when they bucked, all four hooves left the ground. The rider had to last for seven seconds, and few did that.

After the bulls, the bareback bronc riders gave us an equally impressive show, perhaps only slightly less dangerous. Next came both men and women calf ropers, saddle bronc riders, and daredevil stunt riders. It was the fastest two hours I can remember, and I can say with confidence, I am now a rodeo fan thanks to the “Daddy of ‘Em All.”

Before we start Easin’ Along toward Colorado, I wanted to share a little about our stop in Dubois, Wyoming before arriving in Cheyenne. We camped in Dubois last summer and had a great time exploring the area. I inserted a link to that visit here. For this year’s visit, we decided to slow the pace a bit. Helen worked her puzzle beside the Wind River, and I read books. Each campsite in the Longhorn Ranch Campground came with at least four Prairie Dogs, so, between books, I fed the little critters peanuts. One fearless little fellow eventually worked up enough courage to take them out of my hand. It was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. See y’all next week.