Friday, August 7, 2009

Rock Creek Chronicles 3

Day 3- I cooked chorizo and eggs for breakfast burritos. The smell of chorizo cooking invokes so many memories for me, mostly of weekend breakfasts as a girl in my childhood home, good memories. No, I'm not Mexican, we just have eclectic tastes. Don cooked himself a couple of fried eggs, not being a fan of chorizo, but the boys and I enjoyed our messy, greasy burritos with green salsa and red, chorizo grease dripping onto our paper plates. The green salsa from the little can was so tasty, I wanted to save it to eat at lunch with tortilla chips. I put it, still in it's little can with the lid bent down, in the empty cooler which sat on top of the full cooler. I planned to transfer it over after I finished cleaning up. The meat-bees circled closely, wondering when they were going to get their burrito, as I quickly washed the dishes with hot soapy water. I finished up, taking satisfaction in my tidy little camp kitchen and leaving the voracious meat-bees behind.
After breakfast, we headed up to Jackass Creek following the mountain curves of 225 until cutting off and onto the bumpy, dirt road to Wagner's, a tiny, log cabin store with one gas pump. Fishing licenses, ice and just about anything you forgot to pack is stocked on it's neat shelves. Hamburgers and breakfast are served over the small dining counter and a glass display case holds t-shirts with Wagners printed across the chest. The trophy heads of bobcats, deer, and other unlucky mountain animals hang, along with neon beer signs, from the walls. These were a source of terror for Tyler when he was a little guy. We bought a bag of ice, one Rainbow pop, two Drumsticks and an ice cream sandwich. The total was 15 dollars. Unbeknownst to me, Don had brought along the "empty" cooler in which to put the ice. He was not happy to find it splattered with the green salsa. I had forgotten to move it to the "full" cooler, having been distracted by meat-bees. He carried it over to a hose and had to wash it out and we were back on the road to Jackass. "You know that cooler's going to stink like green salsa now, What were you thinking, etc, etc."
We parked off the road, near the bridge that passes over the creek and made our way down to the pond that is surrounded by granite boulders the size of Volkswagon beetles and slippery, sloping granite slides. Little trout swam along the bottom of decomposed granite. It's my favorite swimming hole, about 6 feet at the deepest point. I changed into my swimsuit in a cozy little cabana, a copse of granite and greenery. You can hear a crashing waterfall up stream. As I look at the bridge, I think to myself, "I'm actually swimming in of those places you see from the road, and think, that looks like it would be a neat place to swim"!
That night, we baked some potatoes in coals for dinner and they were delicious, having been oiled and salted heavily before being wrapped in their foil blankets.
Mmm, smores for dessert topped off the evening.
Picture of Jackass Pond taken by my son,Barry


Breezy said...

Sounds like you had a great time...I am loving reading about your trip!!

lifeinredshoes said...

Your writing is pure prose, feels like I was there...glad that I wasn't ;)

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