Under the Bridge

Part two of two of my “Ain’t Too Proud” series. Ain’t too proud to sleep under a bridge. Maybe really stupid, considering it’s raining and this is BUCKSKIN WASH, but not proud. I got rocked to sleep by the sound of semi trucks roaring by above (soothing because it reminds me of living in my van), bumped out of sleep by rats scampering over my bed roll and other unidentifiable animal sounds, and *really* stared down and mooed at in the morning by cattle who really envied my dry spot. I had lots of deep thoughts and internal dialogue about the allegory of sleeping under a bridge or settling at a crossroads such as this, but I’m pretty sure Hanta or Bubonic is already chewing through my brain and I can’t relate any of it to any of you. I stayed dry, at least.

What you see there is a trampled cattle fence, cow tracks, tumbleweeds, one of the five flash flood cams, and part of the bridge.

Have you ever slept under a bridge?