Last night we parked off of a forest service road in Crested Butte near a downed tree and a hefty stump, both which were preventing us from going any further. After watching multiple cars pull up and turn around, I decided to hike down past the obstacles to see what there was to see. A little ways down the steep, rocky trail was a beautiful meadow with a collection of ponds. I knew I had to wake up there the next morning, obstacles be damned.

I marched back up to those two characters who thought they’d put a damper on my night, grabbed on tightly to that stumps arms and dragged him across my path and into the ditch, dusting my hands off in a bit of a celebratory way when I was done. Moving on to the tree resting nearby, I picked her up a bit more softly and gently than I had her companion, lifted her lightly, carrying her to the side of the road to be reunited with her friend, the stump, once again.

Feeling strong and empowered, I headed back to the van, loaded her up, and turned the wheel toward the road where once blocked by our dearest mother nature, was clear and inviting. The task of hefting the fallen trees was a piece of cake compared to actually rolling the van down the steep, jagged hills. Approaching the peak of our first downhill crawl, I hesitated. There were ditches on either side of the road, big enough for me to stand in, and a deep trench down the center which would only allow the left tires a narrow track to the bottom. One wrong move and we’d be slippin’ and slidin’ the whole way to camp.

Moving forward, I placed my hands on ten and two, sat up straight in my seat, and pointed Wanda directly to her lane. She hopped and she jerked and she rolled slowly right into the level patch of dirt patiently awaiting her arrival. We did it! Just in time to see the sun wave goodnight and the mosquitoes eagerly come out of hiding to welcome us home.

What a lovely community hidden here deep in the Elk range of Crested Butte, only the steadfast welcome.