The Martins have Landed #4

By Dave and Jaja

Whenever we embark on a coastal passage, or on a long ocean crossing, we watch the weather closely before setting out. We study the long-range and short-range forecasts to ensure that we'll have safe voyaging. This is called Prudent Seamanship.

Another reason we watch the weather is to ensure that the first day out is calm and idyllic. Might as well get off to a good start--you never know what will happen out there. But sometimes I think we have it all wrong. Sometimes I think we should leave in terrible weather--a gale perhaps, or at night in the fog. That way, the weather can only improve instead of deteriorate.

During this year's spring vacation we finally took our own advice. We loaded up our car, ready to hit the road. The plan was to drive from our rented house in the central Rockies, down to the mountains of the southern Rockies. (And then back again). Although the long-range forecast was great (a big high, with plenty of sun), the short-term forecast was lousy. A blizzard. We departed anyway. The weather could only improve.

Highway 24 up to Leadville was a mess. Six inches of fresh snow, over ice, created driving conditions the made any storm at sea seem downright cozy. Visibility in the fog-shrouded snowfall could be measured in car lengths. We pushed on, but very, very, slowly.

An hour-and-a-half after leaving our house, we rolled up Leadville's snowy main street, ready to stop and take a breather. At 10,251 feet, Leadville is touted as the town with the highest elevation in the United States. The region is a flat plateau, surrounded by mountain peaks all between 12,000 and 14,000 feet.

Unfortunately, our favorite cafe was closed. Too bad. They roast their own coffee right on the premises. The smokiest coffee is called "Vertical Limit", and it makes espresso taste like Folgers. Our kids liked the cafe because they made chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.

It was windy and freezing on main street, so we hurried our hungry kids along to a nearby cafe that we'd never noticed before. It was called the Golden Burro.

We entered. "What do you think?" I asked Jaja. The place was empty.

Before she could answer, a short, bent man with a profound limp came out of the kitchen holding menus and a carafe of water. "Smoking or non-smoking?" he challenged. "Because it really doesn't matter to me where you sit."

"Non-smoking..."

He led us to the back of the cafe, threw the menus on the table, and banged the carafe down. "Sofia will take your order, that is, if you feel like eating anything."

Sofia was close to 50 years old (perhaps) and well over six feet tall. Her hair was bleached white but the roots were grayish black. Her eyes and her teeth were both rimmed with black. I placed our order: Three hamburgers, fries, and two coffees. It amused me that we had actually made the decision to stay instead of running for our lives.

When Sofia left with our order, Holly said, "She looks like a pirate!" Jaja and I were then bombarded with typical kid questions: Why was the short guy limping, why did the waitress have black teeth, and why were the salt and pepper shakers chained to the wall?

The coffee tasted like bilge water, the fries were burned and greasy, but at least the burgers were passable. They were actually a grade better than the stuff they try to pass off as victuals in fast food joints.

With more driving in front of us, we forced everyone to go to the bathroom after the meal was finished. It was then that Jaja noticed a trail of blood leading from the kitchen and into the men's room.

"Ah!" Jaja said "Yuck! Let's get out of here!"

As soon as we were buckled in, with the engine warming up, Jaja passed around baby wipes and ordered everyone to clean their hands and faces. I put the car into gear and we idled down Leadville's slippery main street. Our destination was the town of Gunnison, still several hours' drive away. The sky to the south was beginning to look "brighter". My guess was the blowing snow would soon give way to clear skies.

About two blocks away from the Golden Burro, Jaja said, "I suppose if we survive the next few hours without stomach aches, we can rule out the possibility of food poisoning..."

I laughed. "Look at it this way. After a meal like that, the food on this trip can only improve."