September 13, 2001

9/13/01 Breckenridge, CO

0 miles

Had a lot of trouble falling asleep last night. The visual images of the second plane hitting the towers kept replaying in my head. Twenty thousand people! My greatest fear is that even that number will be too low. As I get very old, people will ask "where were you on September 11th?" Truly our generations Pearl Harbor. It's a time where fear of the unknown pushes us to family and friends for support. I wouldn't know what to say to anyone right now. But I dearly wish I had that special someone I could hold, knowing that I'm not alone in this world. I hope she's out there somewhere thinking the same thing.

After wishing Matt good luck (he'll need it) on his westward ride, I spent most of the morning doing errands. But the more you listen to the radio or watch the television, you kind of enter a state of slow motion. What you were doing or thinking about seems insignificant now. I plan to go to the movies this afternoon. My mind needs some pure escapism to even slightly recover from this tragedy.

Matt heading west

After doing my errands, I got too absorbed in the news unfolding on the TV. Niki had cut out the movie list for the day and the "Musketeer" was playing in Dillon. Summit County has a pretty extensive bus system and it's free. My mind needed some mindless entertainment, a relief tot he serious reality of our world, and a swash-buckler was just the ticket.

First, I needed to mail a few things. But what I thought was a Post Office near the library turned out to be only a mail box station. A passerby told me the 'real' Post Office was across town. As I turned around and headed in that direction, it started to rain. I should have taken these events as an omen, but I'm a stubborn, thickheaded kind of guy at times.

The sun came out for a few moments while I waited for the bus. I had to transfer to another bus when we reached Frisco. The whole ride took a lot longer than I thought and I got to the theater just fifteen minutes before the movie was to start.

I liked the version with of the "Three Musketeers" with Rachael Welch in it much better. This one was just a lot of fast sword work, reminding me more of "Flying Dragon, Crouching Tiger." By the time I left the theater, it was pouring outside. One of the other guys at the same movie had also been on the bus. He told me that the buses only ran once an hour in the evening, so we had an almost 45 minute wait before the next one.

Dinner sounded like a good idea, so I ate a few soft tacos's at Chimoya's. While the girl was making my meal behind the counter, I realized that young immigrants, especially those from Eastern Europe, Russia and of course Mexico, held most of the service jobs. But all the sales jobs were staffed by Americans. With everything so expensive there, I wondered how the immigrants made ends meet. Plus, I wondered what they thought of all the affluent people who lived and played here.

When a bus arrived, I ran from under the restaurant awning, trying to keep from getting too wet from the rain. It never crossed my mind to make sure this was my bus. As it was getting dark, I couldn't really tell where we were. So, when I thought we were back in Frisco, I asked the driver when the connecting bus to Breckenridge would arrive. "You're on the wrong bus!" he exclaimed. I had gotten on the bus headed for Keystone instead of the one for Frisco. Nothing left to do but ride the complete loop to get the correct bus. Two and half hours after I stepped onto the first bus, I arrived back in Breckenridge.

Had a pint of ice cream and a few beers and went to bed.