Yesterday went to Mesa Verde for the first time in forever.  It's 1:50 hours from the house.  Glad I went.  Pretty awesome sights. 

Tomorrow a few (not me) return for the morning 30 minute tours such that you get to go into the actual Cliffside dwellings.   They were sold out when we went.  Turns out one must be strategic at Mesa Verde.

 

Coming back was a pins & needles affair.  We ate in Durango and while there I had a few beers while Cristy swallowed 2 Jack & cokes.  I was fine but we're supposedly teaching Cyna how to drive.  We leave the restaurant at 7 pm and Cyna almost backs into a utility pole.  We travel 2 more blocks to a simple street where she has to turn left.  Two way traffic.  Not that busy but when we get there I instantly recall about a month earlier whereby Cyna would have likely killed or made me slower & dumber at the same time, when she suddenly turned in front of a car making a left onto Manchaca crossing Lamar that misses a broadside greeting by about 10 feet.  I let out a scream that took me about 20 minutes to calm down.  From myself.  As we idled there in Durango I vividly thought of that scene a month ago.  Finally Cyna starts to turn left and I scream "Stop.  Brakes !" cuz in the lane perpendicular to us is a car in the very lane she's turning into and for sure we're gonna collide.  Cyna slams on her brakes and looks at me in disbelief.  We're in the middle of the other lane essentially blocking traffic.  Then I realize I had overreacted in that the car harmlessly passes by in the outer lane.  No, Cyna should have waited but I became Barney Fide with hyper vocal chords.  With that start we proceed approximately 3 miles and I notice it is getting dark-ish.  I despise night mountain driving.  Just about this very thought a large buck rambles across highway 160.  One that is within 15 feet of Cyna, who I'm pretty certain has never encountered driving, walking, hell, even while dreaming.   Thus, and only thus,  she does not freak out cuz she just drives onward like she just sniffed paint fumes.  We continue on and I notice lightening in the distance.  Great.  Night time mountain driving with potential rain. About another 5 miles and Cyna is cruising 60 mph and I notice- but she doesn't seem to- a car that is in our lane about 1/4 mile up doing 7 mph with his flashers on.  I issue a high pitched command for her to slow down and pass this cretin.  Turns out there's a race across America in which cyclists race literally across the country - ALL FUK'N NIGHT.  They have these vans/cars that escort them and they sleep for 3 hours and then get up and go when it is dark.  Highway 160 is a 2 lane affair with no shoulder.  Before we make it back we literally pass 12 of these dudes.  At one point I'm so unraveled I shout "watch out, on the right" which turns out to be a bush that I think is a black van entering our lane.  Cyna scolds me, says I'm making us nervous.  So finally I realize she's right so I force myself to start relaxing.  About 10 miles later I turn the expert driving instructor I am and I say "well Cyna, it's dark out here so one good tactic is to turn on your brights to see the road better" and she does while doing 55 mph.  And I kid you not, standing in the middle of the other lane 30 feet away is a gigantic female elk that would stand up to about our windshield that looks at us with that frozen expression of shock and all I can think is "why is this shit happening to me?  I don't even fuk'n hunt !" and before I could blink we were past.  In another 1500 feet was an enormous semi coming the other way and all I can hope is animal doesn't meet machine.  Finally we make city lights and we stop at CitiMarket to get the next night's dinner.  As I walk down the isle with my 3 bottles of spaghetti sauce I hear this tremendous bang.  Scares the crap out of me.  I proceed ahead with all my stuff in my arms, including my 2 bottles of spaghetti sauce and I turn around to see who the fuk'n jackass is.  Oops, it's me.  I'm short one 32 ounce of sauce so I carefully step over the debris, grab another bottle, and flee the aisle.  Enough of this shit.  We finally get home safely and I hug the refrigerator.  I don't want to Cyna to think she did anything wrong.