A couple of days ago, my friend Elizabeth commented thus:
Probably, the best thing about crossing Kansas will be that, when you are done, you can say…. wait for it…. “I’m not in Kansas anymore.” Sorry if I stole that one from you but, hey, you’re better than that, right?
No, Elizabeth. No. I am NOT better than that. I was totally going to use that and now I can’t. Nor can I think of anything involving Toto, scarecrows, tin men, or yellow brick roads.
Still, this morning, I got the hell out of Dodge.
After a bit of the flat flatness that I was expecting out of Kansas and eastern Colorado, I started getting treated to views like this one:
Ended up in a town in Colorado called Alamosa.
I’d never even heard of Alamosa, so I had no real idea what to expect. Imagine, then, my joy when I discovered this, in downtown Alamosa:
They know how to make beer in Colorado. I hear even Coors used to be good before it went national. Had lunch there, sampled a few of the brews, and found them pleasing.
Anyway, it turns out Alamosa’s a small college town along the Rio Grande (yes, the Rio Grande stretches up into Colorado), and it sits in a valley that’s about 7500 feet above sea level.
Water boils at about 198F at 7500 feet. I guess that doesn’t stop them from making beer.
No worries about water boiling tonight, though – the forecast calls for -10F overnight. So no, I won’t be leaving the heated hotel room. Not even for beer.