Cripple Creek Texaco

In the very early seventies I was suddenly living in Colorado, after having almost no experience with the West.  I loved it -- the young guy making all kinds of scenic discoveries around him.  Cripple Creek was a particularly magical place for me -- before the casinos -- and particularly in the winter, when it was almost eerily quiet, it was other-worldly.  This working Texaco station sported a double rainbow of old signs.  The more common one at left was only politely out-of-date at that point.  The other one -- wow!

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