Creede

In Creede, Colorado, we stayed in a rustic cabin, took baths in a tub on the floor with water heated on a woodstove. When my parents went to the movies we tagged along in pajamas. After picking mouse droppings from the flour and tossing them over his shoulder, my father made pancakes. In spite of 2000 miles sitting cross-legged on a wood platform perched where the car seat used to be, our first family vacation was a great success. For our second (and last) we drove to Florida, hoping to visit Cuba but the Revolution put the kibosh on that.  (100)