Dear Reader,
Before I continue with our Week 2 updates, I would like to take a minute to thank you for reading. I’ve started this project to document this journey as a photo-journal for myself and Sam to look back on, but I’m so happy to hear that the people in our lives care about this adventure as well. I could go on, but I just wanted to say thank you for encouraging me to continue documenting our journey and bringing y’all along with us.
One more thing before I start: For those who aren’t on my email list and wish to be, you can easily be added by choosing to “Sign Up” in the top right corner of the post’s menu bar. This way I’ll have your email and you can easily be reminded every time I post a new update. Under no circumstances will you receive unsolicited messages, but if you have any issues please let me know :)
Now, where did we leave off?
September 17th, 2021
When we reached the Sand Dunes for the second time, it felt like we never really left.
After rushing our repairs, we got back within 24 hours of leaving. Not a bad turnaround, but we still lost a day. With our spirits rising alongside the dunes on the horizon, we decided to jump right into one of the roughest roads we’ll ever take the Teardrop onto: Medano Pass.
We asked a Park Ranger if they thought we could take a trailer through this 4x4 only road. She took a long look at what we were towing, talked with her partner, and shrugged.
With her blessing, we drove straight through the maw of the beast.
Sam was driving, obviously. If I were behind the wheel, there’s no doubt we would have stalled out within 5 feet of the entrance. I was also thankful for this because it meant I could photograph the eastern dunes as we passed them. And boy, oh boy, were they jaw-dropping.
These dunes were different than those we climbed two days earlier. These were steeper and covered in grasses, plants, and flowers. During the spring, when snowmelt is at its peak, Medano creek flows right at the dunes’ edges, allowing massive trees and plenty of plants to grow.
Seeing the boundaries of such stark environments was awe-inspiring. And driving alongside those boundaries? I felt so honored to be able to see the land in this way.
In all honesty, I think my shock at such beauty made me unaware of how hard Sam was working to get us across those sand pits. At one point, I asked him if we could stop so I could take a picture. Without looking at me, he said, “I’m kind of busy right now, we’ll have to wait until there’s a safe place to stop.” After another 10 minutes and a lot of shaking, we made it through. I never did get that picture, though.
Once the sand pits were behind us, all other obstacles felt like a breeze. There were plenty of river crossings, but the water was never too high to cause any problems. And the tight squeeze I mentioned in Week 1? Well, let’s just say we expertly squoze and made it through in one piece.
As the dunes fell behind us, the mountains took their place. We found a beautiful little meadow to set up camp, and it was only 1 in the afternoon! This meant we could hangout and do whatever we wanted before night fell.
I cherish these rare moments of stillness. Usually, we don’t set up camp until right before dinnertime, where hangriness takes precedence and is quickly followed by sleepiness.
The next day we woke up early to hike to Medano Lake. Once we got there, we couldn’t pass up the opportunity to wash up in the ice cold water. Well, let me rephrase: Sam couldn’t pass it up. He jumped right in, hooting and hollering as only he can after turning into an ice cube. I tried to submerge myself, but my warm-blooded body absolutely would not let me get past my knees.
We returned from the hike around noon and continued our journey through the Sangre de Cristo mountains. The drive was pleasant, and the rocky roads eventually gave way to dirt. Soon enough, we made it onto Highway 69. Something that always astonishes me is just how beautiful the United States highway systems are. Sure, some interstates come with views, such as I-70, but every road we’ve taken off the beaten path has blown me away.
Even though the highway greeted us with open arms and scenic valleys, the people who resided there were the polar opposites. I’m not one to generalize, but Sam and I could not shake the feeling that we weren’t welcome. We went to gas up in one small town and the only two diesel pumps were taken up by two men. They stopped chatting just long enough to look us over, then continued to not even use the pumps. We gave up waiting for them and decided to get out of that valley as fast as possible.
We continued driving for the rest of the day and found the least enjoyable campsite we’ve had so far. Don’t get me wrong, we had a beautiful view of some Colorado mountain, but there were so many people around us. This made the site a lot less enjoyable since we weren’t camping in an official campground. For some reason people get a lot less friendly when everyone is begrudgingly close to each other.
You can tell I wasn’t too fond of this site because the only photo I took from there is this:
A Somber Site
Our next official stop was to meet up with our friend Tyler and go to a concert in Denver.
Since Sam went to school in Fort Collins, he had five years to get to know northern Colorado and Rocky Mountain National Park. I lived with him during his last year, so I also got my fair share of experiences in the area. So, instead of exploring the Rockies, we decided to set up camp early the next day and just hang out.
We stuck 4 years worth of stickers onto the Jeep.
We filled two trashbags with litter.
We played games and tried our hands at drawing each other.
We did some minor Teardrop upkeep.
And we explored the area we chose to camp in.
Before I show the photos I took from our small exploration, I want to give the experience some exposition. We chose a campsite that was on the edge of a huge fire. We could tell that the fire was recent, too. Another important note is that we ended up camping right on the edge of this fire. From our site, we could see aspens with no scarring and tall grasses. However, as we moved deeper into the forest, there was a gradual increase in fire damage.
At first, the trees began to show black at their bases, indicative of a low bush fire. Here, we saw life grow from the ashes. New growth was varied, from wildflowers to very small bushes, with some grasses covering fallen, charred trees. What still blows my mind is how clearly the edge of this fire was delineated.
Sam and I were shocked to be standing at such a boundary. However, even at a distance, we could tell the story didn’t end there.
Our feet took us deeper into the remains of the fire. As the grass grew less dense, we could see the ground was entirely made of ash. The trees that were left standing were thoroughly burned and carbonized. Some, to my absolute surprise, left only their blackened roots, baked within the ground.
I think the most surreal aspect of this entire experience was knowing in the back of my mind that this was from the same fires that haunted the skies of Colorado in 2020. After some research, I’m fairly certain that we stood at the edge of the East Troublesome Fire, which burned just short of 200,000 acres of land and was Colorado’s second largest fire. Seeing this firsthand would always weigh heavy on my heart, but I remember living in Fort Collins as these fires blackened our skies.
I will forever be grateful to this land for giving me another perspective. Though the devastation of fire will always be stark, life finds a way.
Denver Adventures
To lighten the mood, I would love to share with you a collection of experiences from our time with Tyler in Denver. There, we went to a Tame Impala concert and, the next day, explored the new Meow Wolf exhibit. If you don’t know what the latter is, then I would love to hear your best guess after seeing these photos.
Tame Impala:
Meow Wolf
Goodbye Colorado,
Hello Wyoming
As we said our goodbyes to Tyler, we also said goodbye to the first state on our travel list.
The day we left, I told Sam that our Gap Year would finally settle in once we reached Wyoming. Colorado is beautiful and has much left to explore, yet he and I are very comfortable and familiar with the state. I’ve only been to Wyoming once, and that was just a hop and a skip across the border.
This time, crossing the state line means we are officially more than a state away from home.
From here on out, the majority of our experiences will collectively and entirely be new to us.
There are still plenty of challenges for us to face as we continue (showering in mysterious places, doing laundry wherever we can manage, etc.), and there are still so many exciting places to see!
NEXT WEEK:
Wyoming.
We’ll be hiking beside the Tetons,
watching geysers erupt at sunrise in Yellowstone,
and taking our first showers in the wild!
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