When we finally get back to the cars Michelle and I marvel over how we could have gotten so far off course. So far off that it was embarrassing when we spotted them from the hilltop. “We were probably hypnotized by all the wisdom we were dispensing,” I suggest and Michelle nods in agreement.
“That’s gotta be it.”
“That’s gotta be it.”
We hug and thank each other, exchange information, and make plans to keep in touch. We climb in our respective vehicles and follow the gravel path back to the highway. When we get there I’m going right and Michelle is going left. We make eye contact one last time in my rearview mirror, then I wave my arm out my window and take back to the open road.
It’s strange, I only knew her for an afternoon but parting ways with Michelle is sad. A real human connection is rare in the world today. Especially rare for me, and the feeling of something being over has my spirits waining. I try to take our own advice and live in the now. Take the experience for what it was. A chance encounter that was enjoyable and much needed but it’s in the past now. So, alone in the Jeep I issue a “Thanks for the beer Michelle” and head toward the next encounter.
Upon consulting my atlas I determine that the next encounter, due to it’s close proximity will be the the Aztec Ruins near the Colorado border. I point the Jeep north and mash the pedal to the floor.
I watch the introduction movie in the little visitors center and wander out back to check out the actual ruins. The place is huge! A whole town built out of mud and rocks. There’s an irrigation system, ventilation. The Aztecs even put a special finish on the walls to ensure their integrity. Dozens of rooms throughout and even a town hall in the center called a Kiva. A lot of the walls are damaged or nonexistent but it really is a thing to see. It loses some of it’s magic when I read some of the informational plaques around the site that say a lot of what I see today is refurbished recently. So they aren't the original walls the Aztecs built but it’s still cool to see how it would of looked. I’m disillusioned further when another plaque informs me that even the original ruins weren't form the Aztecs. It’s actually a Pueblo indian site it’s just that when it was first discovered someone called it the Aztec ruins and the name just stuck. I shake my head and chuckle. The title on this plaque says “The Aztec Ruins.”
I watch the introduction movie in the little visitors center and wander out back to check out the actual ruins. The place is huge! A whole town built out of mud and rocks. There’s an irrigation system, ventilation. The Aztecs even put a special finish on the walls to ensure their integrity. Dozens of rooms throughout and even a town hall in the center called a Kiva. A lot of the walls are damaged or nonexistent but it really is a thing to see. It loses some of it’s magic when I read some of the informational plaques around the site that say a lot of what I see today is refurbished recently. So they aren't the original walls the Aztecs built but it’s still cool to see how it would of looked. I’m disillusioned further when another plaque informs me that even the original ruins weren't form the Aztecs. It’s actually a Pueblo indian site it’s just that when it was first discovered someone called it the Aztec ruins and the name just stuck. I shake my head and chuckle. The title on this plaque says “The Aztec Ruins.” 
After an hour or 2 of wandering the ruins my plan is to head into Colorado to Mesa Verde National Park and camp while I have a look around. The sweet ladies in the mislabeled “Aztec Ruins” visitor inform me that all the campgrounds to the north are still closed. They won’t open for another few weeks. It’s still cold up there they tell me. So with Colorado still closed for the winter I decide to check out the Four Corners Monument and then head south to warmer climes.
I pull up to the gate at the Four Corners an hour or so later and read the sign. Hours of operation: 9am-5pm. I look at my watch. It currently reads 5:09pm. I look from the watch to the sign a few times, shake my head and check the horizions. There isn’t anything for miles in any direction and it’s so early that it doesn't make sense to waste a whole day to camp out and see the four corners in the morning. How cool could it be anyway? I shrug it off and head south.
With all the driving I'm doing, I cover a lot of ground and have a number of minor observations that aren't terribly exciting but still deserve mentioning. A sign that says you only need three things in life: a backbone, a wishbone, and a funny bone. I like it, and make a point of writing it down later. Another I jot in my note book is the fact that a condom machine in a rest stop bathroom has the phrase “Sharon Horse Bitch” on it more than once. And they’re in different colored ink with different different signs of aging. I wonder to myself if it was two different guys that felt the need the immortalize Sharon’s horse bitchiness in bathroom graffiti. Or was it the same guy that came back multiple times to do it. Either way, Sharon must really be a Horse Bitch….
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