Ridgway relocation.
Jan 1st, 2023
For the remainder of 2020, I was a little lonely and leaned into being lazy in lieu of getting drunk at a bar. After a brief visit from one of the few locals I've befriended, I found some motivation. Sunday at 2:30 pm, I headed out route 23, intending to hike up the ridge south of Ridgeway. The no-trespassing signs blocking the ridge trail were discouraging, but after brief contemplation, shamefully, they didn't deter me. Once at the top, the trail kept going and so did I. Not retracing my steps and the no-trespassing signs motivated me to keep exploring the trail. After a few miles, the trail kept heading towards Ouray, and hitching back didn't seem very appealing. Instead, I started cutting over ridges and a few fences, startled a bunny, and thankfully hit the top of 5a. After 2 hours, 7 miles, and 1000ft of elevation I made it back and treated myself to a well-earned beer followed by a shower. The motivation fiends can provide is astounding.
Dec 25th, 2022
Before Christmas dinner with Robin and John, I joined the shop manager Patric, Ellen, Mike, and Michelle at the Gunnerson’s Edge disc golf course in Delta. Only one disc required a river retrieval and luckily it wasn’t mine!
I had a lovely dinner and an even lovelier conversation with my aunt Robin. Hearing other perspectives on family history highlights how toxic trauma can manifest relationship rifts and walls. We'll see if listening, openly sharing thoughts, and having time to reflect can begin a path toward healthier relationships.
No expectations, just curiosity.
Dec 17-19th, 2022
Disc golf @ Top of the Pines, billiards at Steps Tavern, grabbed groceries in Montrose, and ran around Ridgway.
Dec 12th, 2022
My eccentric Aunt helped precipitate a relocation to behind John's shop in downtown Ridgway after our weekend.
John kindly agreed to let me help around the shop. I look forward to garnering a deeper understanding of my uncle, his grandson, the rest of the crew, and their craft.
Further, he offered a loft to spend the coming cold nights in with a slight caveat. John's son, the loft's past resident, tragically passed away a month ago.
On day one of grinding Convoy Ducks, I managed eight total, regretfully only using a glove on the last duck resulting in a very raw right thumb.
After ducks, I walked around town, splurged on sesame oil, chatted with the folks, and made van ramen. The sesame oil was worth it.
I decided to crash in the van for the night. I woke up, vacuumed the loft futon, and cleaned the bathroom sink before more ducks.
Loft located above the second shop
After more ducks, this time ground with gloves, I ran to my aunt's a mile out of town. After a brief visit, I headed to mop the bathroom and shower floors, earning myself a soothing shower.
I made the futon with a spare set of van sheets and started toting gear into the loft for the night. On my last trip to the van, someone poked their head in, thinking I was a hostel tenant. Nicole, the manager, asked a few questions about my situation and insisted I stay through the weekend. Just a slight upgrade and perhaps an excuse to meet people closer to my age.
