We move camp just 35 miles today up to Salida and the Colorado Peaks area.  Hardly worth the trouble you’d say but it puts us along the Arkansas River in a beautiful valley with lots of wildlife and classic 14,000-footer views.

I wake up just as it getting light.  I have been watching for a clear morning to see the Sangre de Cristo Mountains show their colors, red at sunrise.  We get a bit of a rosy glow.  Not exactly what I hoped for but it is lovely.

Check out is early and we are on the road by a little past 9.  Check-in at Rocky Top, our next stop, is 2:30 so we looking for a nice stop to spend a few hours.  We settle on a raft take-out area along the Arkansas that is just a wide spot along US 50 but we have a nice river view and we are in the right terrain for big horn sheep.

The big horn don’t disappoint.  One, two ewes and their lambs make their way across the far bank to drink from the river.  Then there is a broken stream of mamas and their young until a band of about 20 drinks, then moves up the riverbank back into the scattered juniper.  Next the rams appear, 6 of them I think, trailing along behind the girls.  This is our first big horn sighting this trip and that’s always exciting.

Rafters come by as well.  It is a quiet section here but there is lots of flow so probably some exciting moments on upstream.  We are undecided as to whether we will be rafting this pass through.  We will have to decide today or likely won’t be able to get a reservation between now and Friday when we move on.

Here we go, our first full-blown Bluegrass Festival.  I’ve heard bluegrass groups at various festivals and summer concert series through our travels.  Most recent was while we were in Kingston this summer.  That is when I vowed that we are going to seek out more of this bluegrass/mountain style music and really check it out.  Here we are in Westcliffe, Colorado dry camping in an open field under clear (most of the time) skies soaking up sunshine and bluegrass.

Skip to Sunday, performances are coming to a close.  We went all in.  Across the 3 ½ day festival we spend 24 hours in lawn chairs under a huge tent listening to the likes of Hillbilly Fever, Uncle Shuffelo and this Haint Hollow Hootenanny, Blue Canyon Boys and Southwest Bluegrass All Stars plus lots more.  Many of the groups, and/or their individual members, are well known in this genre and I’m certainly impressed with the picking and strumming everywhere not to mention the amazing washboard playing in the Uncle Shuffelo group!

Kent and I are obviously not qualified to objectively judge what we have been listening to but we have picked out some standouts, in our opinions.  For me it is The Red Mountain Boys.  They are a bit non-traditional I’d say.  They played original music, both lyrics and instrumental which seem to incorporate a fun interplay of all the string parts with breakouts of genre-defining finger-defying picking, especially on the mandolin. My favorite song is Dear John. I get the distinct impression they were all high on their last set…lots of ‘I know something you don’t’ grins exchanged and pretty loose demeanor by all.

I think Kent’s vote would be the group DAYTON; heavily influenced by their Elvis Lookalike banjo player.  He is phenomenal on banjo, guitar, fiddle and mandolin.  The rest of the guys carry their weight.  I agree with Kent, they are probably the most enjoyable traditional bluegrass group.  They brought some original work by their talented songwriters as well.

Under the of heading of unbelievable, the Baker Family, three kids and their mom. They consider themselves Ozark Bluegrass.  That must mean bluegrass on speed.  In their opening set the 19-year-old balanced on the string bass standing on edge while he played it.  I guess he was squeezing ALL the music out of it.

There are food trucks of course, the way many folks do event foods now-a-days.  We have been repeat customers at the tator twist fry-funnel cake truck!

It has been a fun, few days.  We’ll do this or something like it again sometime/somewhere.   If you are looking for a venue to put your toe in the bluegrass water, this Festival in Westcliffe is a great place to do it.  The festival is well run: easy, close camping, free parking for day trippers, reasonable food and water and you can even bring in your own if you want, a beer and wine tent, lots of pleasant volunteers around and attended by many enthusiastic, music loving, well-behaved attendees. On top of that, it is a long running fund raiser for Wet Valley Colorado children’s health and wellness organizations.  Check it out.

It is July 4^th.  We are up pretty early on a beautiful bright sunny morning.  It is heading for 95F.  We need to find a holiday-appropriate activity to cool off.  That’s when we decide, yes, we are going to the Fourth of July Wet Parade in Pueblo West.  It is exactly what it sounds like, parade goers and paraders engage in a 1 ½ mile long water battle.  Sounds pretty unmanageable right?  You ought to see the list of rules published to attempt to do so.

We arrive at the wet end of the parade route (the first ½ mile is designated dry – as in no water battle allowed).  Our first thought is to walk to the dry end thinking we don’t want to get dripping wet but get caught up in the spirit and decide to stay along the wet portion of the route.  We are unarmed and a bit older than the rest of the crowd so as long as we don’t get caught up in an active spectator battle wet parade etiquette seems to limit our exposure to light, long-distance volleys. We get just wet enough to be reminded that this is a different sort of celebration.

We settle into a viewing area just a bit back from the road and among family spectators.  The Mayor suspended water restrictions for the event.  Parking regulations have been relaxed allowing locals to pre-park along the parade route 3 DAYS in advance. The place is a bit crazy.  There are tanks of all shapes and sizes and even pickup beds lined with tarps and filled with water.  Pre-parade engagement rules seem to be “any one armed is fair game”.  If they are still dry, they are premium targets.  Spirits are high and groups rove the street coalescing into a flash mob to douse randomly selected sideliners.   It is hot and the sun is blazing.  We gladly accept the occasional overspray.  The parade is actually a bit tamer as float riders (all prepared for the onslaught and most returning fire) are absolutely inundated. No bands.  Only one brave politician.  The honor guard is actually a van with flags out all the just cracked open windows.  It is all as far from patriotic as any 4^th celebration I know of; but it is a great way to welcome in summer.

Fireworks, gotta find some.  We settle in at Pueblo West City Civic Park around 8PM.  We know just the place to watch from, a lush picnic lawn we walked through earlier today.  Still an hour or more until dark but locals are already lighting up the sky with some pretty impressive fireworks of their own.  We relax in the cool evening air to enjoy the show.  One, two, three high explosions signal the beginning of the official display.  We don’t even get the first oh or ah out before we hear the hiss of sprinkles, literally right under our blanket, firing off.  We scramble out of reach and take in the rest of the show, standing, to make it easier to stay out of the spray as the rest of the zones come on in turn.   The day ends as unordinary as it began.