Adventures in Crested Butte

Michael politely suggested I change the subtitle of this blog, to “let’s go traveling” instead of “let’s go adventuring.”

See, the thing is, adventures are not always fun while they’re happening. And Crested Butte was an adventure.

We arrived under sunny skies, near dusk on Tuesday, and quickly found a nice spot to camp along Slate River Road.

The tarp in the picture above is from the Tarpestry. We bought it at RockyGrass, before either one of us could talk the other out of it. It’s pretty kick ass so far. The dogs love it, too.

Wednesday dawned bright and clear, although clouds built throughout the day.

The table was made out of scrap wood with help from my friend Justin. We’re still getting used to it, but so far it’s pretty handy.

We got a ride in, doing parts of Upper Lower Loop, Lower Lower Loop, and the KB Connector Trail.

There were cows on the trail, so that was interesting.

 

I never thought I would ever ride a trail while shouting “hey cow!” every five seconds and ringing the bell on my handlebars. Check that one off the bucket list.

 

 

 

 

Wednesday night it drizzled a bit. Thursday morning it started raining. And it never entirely quit.

That’s only half the fun, though. Actually, the rain wasn’t the worst – we have the RTT and we set up a tarp so that we can sit outside, cook, etc. But we couldn’t ride due to the rain, and the dogs were bored out of their skulls. We did manage a bit of a walk along Slate River Road.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As soon as we got back to camp the skies opened up. To the point that a river formed under the truck, soaking the stuff we’d stored there. The river made its way down to the tarp we’d put down as well. Just about everything we had was all wet. The one champ? Our Cabela’s waterproof duffel bag. So we at least had a change of dry clothes.

Sick of the rain, I went to bed at 8:30. Embarrassing but true. And the real fun began around 2am. I heard something outside the rig. I couldn’t tell how big it was but it appeared to be rummaging through the stuff we’d left outside.

Before you judge – everything we left outside was in a covered container. We didn’t leave any food out in the open. You might judge a little though, because the day before, someone told us a bear was in the area.

Anyway. I woke up Michael and we peered around through the windows of the RTT. The cool thing about this tent is that all the screens also zipper completely open, so we could lean out the windows for a better view.

I started hearing a sound. Munch, munch, munch. The sound of the dog food being eaten. Dammit. Peeking around, we figured that whatever it was, was up along the hillside in front of the rig. Michael put his shoes on and went down the ladder. “Do not zipper this thing closed,” he said.

I watched the beam of his headlamp scan the hillside. “Look there,” he finally said. I focused my light on the spot he wanted, and all I saw was a good-sized splotch of black that was even darker than everything else outside.

Munch, munch, munch. The eating of dog food continued.

“Hey!” I yelled. In reply a pair of eyes glowed in the beam of light for a moment. Then disappeared. Probably a bear. Most likely.

Munch, munch, munch.

It was at this unfortunate moment that I realized I had to pee. “Go now,” Michael said, returning to the tent. “While he’s still eating.” I went down the ladder barefoot and squatted right there next to the truck. I was somewhere mid-stream when I realized the munching sounds had stopped.

Shit.

“Get up here,” Michael said. I shot up that ladder like my ass was on fire.

At this point, all was quiet and Michael went right back to sleep. It’s not that I was worried about something getting us or anything – that’s the beauty of a rooftop tent – but I just wasn’t sleepy. Going to bed at 8:30 will do that to you, I guess. So I read for a while before lying back down. It stayed nice and quiet outside the rig. Even the rain had stopped.

Our visitor returned just before dawn. Michael and I woke to a ruckus happening, this time on his side of the rig. And this time, there was no confusion: it was a bear. A black bear. And it was trying to get into our cooler. I shouted “hey bear!” at it, and the bear stopped for a moment. I would swear it looked uncertain. So Michael put on his deepest, gruffest voice, and said “HEY BEAR!”

The bear chuffed and ran off towards the creek.

Once again, Michael put on his shoes and went down to investigate. I stayed up in the tent and kept an eye on the willows next to the creek. But the bear did not return.

Our (extremely expensive) Yeti cooler was upside down, but still latched. There was a claw mark along one edge. But it survived. Along with all our food, and our Cholaca supply.

Suddenly all that money we spent on the Yeti seemed worth it. I think we’ll invest in locks next, though. Then it will be truly bear-proof.

Maybe 10 minutes after the bear left our camp, we heard a car alarm go off. We were just up the road from another camping area – a crowded one. Apparently our bear was making the rounds.

When we packed up camp (in the rain, I might add) later, I went up the hillside to retrieve what was left of the plastic container we used for the dog food. But it was still intact. That bear could have just smashed it open, and instead he knew how to flip the latches. He also knew to go for the dog food. And the cooler. Smarter than your average bear, apparently.

 

Packing up camp in the rain was about as fun as it sounds. I tried to embrace the suck. The necessary ingredient – Cholaca in our coffee. (Especially since the coffee was Starbucks Via.)

 

 

 

 

So we drove into town under dark skies. After seeing that rain was forecasted for the Crested Butte area for the next week, we headed out of town. It’s too bad – CB seems like a cool place, and one I’d like to have gotten to know better. Maybe some other time.

We’re in Buena Vista now, drying out. Although it’s supposed to rain here too, it’s only a 40% chance. So we’ll give it a whirl, before we head up towards Steamboat Springs.

Ah, adventure.