Having successfully failed to find
anywhere to crash in Casper, Wyoming, we decided to drive through the
night to Rock Springs and get a hotel room there. And by “we,” of
course, I mean Joshua. Because I was asleep in the back seat like the
fragile flower I am.
We got to Rock Springs, Wyoming at the
break of dawn with still a few hours before any hotel would let us
check in to sleep the day off. And by “us” here I mean Joshua and
Holly, because I had gotten my beauty sleep in the car and was ready
for awesomeness. We wandered downtown for a bit and ended up killing
time at this little local diner called Grubs, because just calling
the place “Food” would have been pretentious. This is Pen Pen
being welcomed to Rock Springs.
The Rocky Mountains stood over the town
taunting me with their existence. Sure, I had part of my right lung
removed only 8 weeks ago, but these mountains were just so there.
I couldn't let them be there
without hiking them. That would be un-American, or something. So
while Joshua and Holly napped, I took the Rusty Shackleford and drove
toward the mountains. I got to where the pavement ended, parked the
car, and started walking. Now keep in mind that 7 weeks ago I still
needed help to walk any more than a few feet. And it was only about 3
weeks ago that I stopped requiring high dosages of pain medication to
do anything more complicated than play Minecraft. So sure, these
aren't the tallest, most difficult peaks in the Rockies, but as far
as I was concerned they were the damn Himalayas. This is Pen Pen
staring up at the mountain concluding that this wasn't the dumbest
possible thing I could do.
It wasn't until I
hit the rock scramble about 2/3rds up that how massively suicidal
this was really registered with me. But at that point it had become a
matter of pride. I was going to scale this comparatively easy
mountain whether it wanted me to or not. My heart pounding through my
chest, I crested the mountain and looked around. It opened up on a
massive plateau, a sun bleached rib cage rising up from the dust 20
feet away. I sat down on a rock for a little while to catch my
breath, eat cashews, and read some Asimov. I crashed out at the hotel
for the rest of the afternoon. My adrenaline still pumping, keeping
my body from knowing just how pissed at me my lungs really were. This
is Pen Pen, King of the Rockies.
We headed off to
the venue, not really sure what to expect. I play places like Porky's
on tour a lot, and it's usually a good time. But it's the sort of
place where they'll either love us or hate us. And unfortunately by
the time you figure out which one it's going to be it's too late to
do anything about it. So you just sit there singing your stupid songs
absorbing rays of hate from the crowd. We walked in, nervously
looking around. It wasn't packed, but there were enough folks there
for a decent show. But I guess they were the right folks. It ended up
being a pretty awesome night. Definitely the best of the tour so far.
Everyone was really fun and we kept playing until 1 or so juggling
between covers and originals. So way to be rad Rock Springs, Wyoming.
This is Pen Pen riding Porky's pig.
This is a song I
wrote one time. You should download it and share with your friends.
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