Day 36: World Famous Guffey Garage Beans

July 11, 2022 in Guffey, Colorado

NOTE: Thank you all for your patience with my last couple of blogs (as well as the upcoming ones!). I'm hoping to post every day again as soon as I catch up with my cue.

Today was a truck day for me–– I switched scheduled days with my friend Zoe so I could ride with my dad when he gets here. It was really a win-win though, because everyone was talking about how miserable and difficult today would be and I simply didn't want to do that.

Lorelei and I set off in the truck after breakfast (apple cinnamon instant oatmeal), and started our regular routine of checking the route ahead for any troubles.

The first couple miles of the route were fine, and the roads of Pueblo were empty so early in the morning. Once we reached Highway 50, though, there was significant construction and high traffic, so we pulled the riders off the road while we make a reroute plan.

Lorelei and I started driving around the back roads to see if there were any viable options, and I texted and called the riders who were still on the road.

We were able to reach every group except one, so we turned the truck around to catch up with them before they got too far on Highway 50. The traffic had picked up even more, so it was really scary to be chasing after them.

We finally caught up to the group while they were paused on a median waiting for a break in the traffic merging from both directions, and we yelled for them to get into the truck.

At the very moment they turned around, two cars collided right where they had just been. It was incredibly loud and very scary, but none of the riders or drivers were hurt.

We pulled everyone who was still on the road off immediately and made sure everyone was okay before having everyone meet at a gas station one mile away via a gravel road.

Once we had the team gathered (besides sweep, who had returned to our morning host to wait), we loaded everyone and their bikes into the truck and lunch van. I was also able to grab an Egg McMuffin and a coffee from the McDonald's across the street, which was much needed.

From there, we shuttled the team to a park on the route, where they relaxed and recuperated while Lorelei and I returned to the host to pick up sweep.

Once the team was all back together, we discussed what had happened, and most people decided to get back on the road.

The rest of the van day was pretty uneventful from there, except that Caroline drove instead of Lorelei, because it was obviously a really stressful thing to watch.

The host, however, was something else. There is no way I can do it justice, but I'll try.

The town of Guffey (current population: 25) sits tucked in the crest of the Rocky Mountains. From far away, it looks like a village made of Lincoln Logs. From up close, that impression stands true. Most of the dwellings are only 5 or so feet high, with nothing but a saloon and a post office to keep them company.

Upon our arrival, our host–– a 60-something boots-wearing beer-drinking "ever since the old lady left"-saying garage owner named Bill–– welcomed us with a peace offering of cold beer. We awkwardly turned him down as we were getting back on the road and I am Certified Underage, but there was another offering to come.

As we walked inside his garage turned antique store, we were greeted with an absolute assault on the senses. The highlights were an extremely dead (but certainly not taxidermied) iguana, a couple of poorly hidden confederate flags, a hat with a political joke so tasteless I shant repeat it, various Halloween decorations, and of course, "World Famous Guffey Garage Beans."

These beans, which we were offered on plates consisting of at least 30% bean juice, consisted of black beans, pinto beans, green beans (to my despair), and pork chunks, and presumably had been cooked in the very dead-iguana-garage in which we stood. I tried one bite and discreetly dumped them under one of the dozens of rusted old cars spotting the yard. I hope he doesn't find them.

We were then escorted to our accomodations–– a four bed bunk house with a decaying bison outside. It was decayed enough that it didn't smell, but the outhouse sure did. The cabin itself was magnificent though.

We walked into an entryway with an old fashioned stove and refrigerator that must have been more than 70 years old. They were surrounded by (empty) food containers and tins from the 30s to the 50s, the likes of which I had only seen in museums.

The bedroom itself had a hair salon chair from decades ago, mounted animal heads, and beautifully patterned blankets. I felt like I had been teleported into a 1950s ski trip in the mountains with my absent husband and our three kids.

The tiny houses we had seen rolling in turned out to be our alternate housing, and boasted plywood walls and hanging bunks inside. I claimed one of those, because I have learned that there's a limit to how many people I can hear snore at one time before I cry.

The evening only got more interesting from the time the rest of the team showed up. They looked almost dystopian climbing over the Halloween decor of skeleton horses, abandoned cars, and no trespassing signs towards the Guffey Garage for our hot dog dinner.

There was of course more beer and his own homegrown weed offered. I of course abstained. Bill gave us an offering of welded hearts to take with us on our journey, before bestowing the keys to the town hall on us. It was around this time that I realized the Bill IS the entire town of Guffey.

We ventured down the street towards the town hall, beers in hand (luckily for me, he had a non-alcoholic one for me. But just one. In the entire beer fridge), with only a quick pit stop to sit in the row of 15 bathtubs outside the building.

The town hall itself was another step back in time–– from the decor to the sodas, to the stage with an ancient microphone, it was clear the building hadn't been disturbed since the 50s. I found a trumpet and immediately played it. So far, I haven't contracted any communicable diseases from that decision.

Our next stop, Bill's OTHER antique store, was just as stunning. It had everything from phones from the 30s to a container of Vick's Vapo Rub from the 50s. It still smells the same, in case you were wondering.

The entire town, but this stop especially, solidified in my mind that I simply will never experience a town so stuck in time again in my lifetime. It was incredibly weird, and shockingly wonderful.

I rounded out my roller coaster of a day with a couple of rounds of "Fishbowl" (like charades) with my friends, which had us all laughing to the point of tears, and climbed into my twin bed with my friend Flavie. This proved to be an excellent decision, as temperatures dropped to a crisp mountain 35.

Oh, and do us both a favor and google "Guffey CO mayor." You won't regret it.