Colorful Colorado (or, my first brush with real fear)
After the flatness of the midwest, it was quite a change as we found ourselves in Denver and then Boulder, Colorado. Not to mention that the temperatures suddenly plummeted as we climbed higher and higher. We were even able to cut off the A/C and drive with the windows down.
After a quick stop at a Whole Foods to restock gluten-free supplies and eat a quick picnic in the car, we wound our way up to the first of a (seemingly endless) string of National Parks.
The Hubster went into the ranger’s station to get maps and suggestions for scenic routes we could take. I slipped into the bathroom there, and then hunkered down in the backseat of the car, knowing that my irrational fear of heights — and, specifically, my husand DRIVING through those heights — was about to sink its nefarious claws into my psyche.
Hills, mountains, cliffs, and peaks were about to become my constant nemeses over the next few days.
