God's Rubble #T

Did I tell you about our trip to the mountains?  Oh, yeah, I recollect I was tellin’ you we were at th' Royal Gorge.  Well, sir, that same afternoon we drive on up to Cotopaxi, find a spot by the river ‘n pitch our tent.  Got the tackle out and flung our lines in th’ river.  We catch three nice rainbows, oh, ten, eleven inches. ‘Course I caught one an 'em, ‘n Grace, she caught two.  Always have to best me, thet woman.  Waal, they was mighty fine eatin’, cook as they were in the arn skillet we bring along.  Your Aunt Grace, she make some fry-bread to go along with, an’ a han’ful a coffee in th’ ol’ tin pot asittin’ on the farr.  Moughty fine.  Mought near as good a meal I ever eat.

Son, I tell ya, sleepin’ on the ground, nothin’ but a ol’ comforter underbeneath me is no way for a feller to treat his ol’ body.  Thet will not happen again, no matter what a hotel mought cost.  So I finely get upright in the mornin’ and got the ol’ bones to move on thoo the aches ‘n pains.  We get a good start, anyway, drive on up to Salida.  Pretty little town, tho’ I can’t fer the life a me see whut for people live up there.  Nice scenery, can’t eat it.

So we drive on up to Buena Vista, lovely scenery along the way, your Aunt Grace say.  Now we are up by the headwaters our Arkansas River, it come a bubblin’ down out the mountains.  We drive on up to Leadville, that little V-8 85 workin’ it’s heart out, but she don’t falter, no sir.  Now we drive thoo the barennest places I ever see, higher, higher, climb right to the top a th’ world.  Nothin’ness ever’where ya look.  Even Grace, who see beauty in ever’thing, say, “What do you suppose the Good Lord want with so much rocks and bare lan'?”

Waal, I fancy I know th' answer to thet.  I tell her, “Hon,” I say, “the Bible say God create ever’thin' in six days, an’ He rest on the seventh.  Now he mought nigh get done with his work, ‘n he see thet th’ sun have gone down, night acomin’ on.  So he have all this leftover scrap, ‘n he gotta dis-pose of it afore dark, so He tuk and dump it all out here in the middle a Colorado!”

“You ol’ fool,” say Grace.  “Well, no; maybe  you are right this time.  I sure see no use for all these rocks."

Waal, t’make a long story short, we go on into Leadville, try to visit one a them there mines, jes’ ta see what the fuss is all about.  Prollem is, catchin’ one’s breath up there is not all thet easy.  Like ta starve for air.  Grace, she suggest we stay in thet ol’ hotel over yonder, ‘n I say I druther die on the road then to hafta stay in this place another hour.  I’ma wantin’ home really bad.  So we get in the truck an’ head on out.  Darkness catch us just past Salida, but I’ma goin’ home.  Did her, too.  Find a station in Canon, fill ‘er up, ‘n drive on thoo the night.  We get home two o’clock in th’ mornin’ and if’n I never get out the county again in my lifetime, hit will be plenty soon enough.

© 2014 David W. Lacy  31