Well, my tablet ap turned out to be a little bunk, so this update on my journey across country with my man, Dan, is going to be all at once. This part of the story is all about driving.
Seven days ago, Dan and I shoved the last odds and ends into my car, threw one last pile of our old lives on the curb outside our Kansas City apartment, returned our router, squeezed ourselves into the car and set off around five in the p.m. We started this adventure. We had a lot of moral and monetary support from family. We sold pretty much everything we could. I gave away my epic yarn collection. The whole laundry basket full of it. (I swear, I have set rules in place for myself about the severe hoarding problem I almost had.)
We. Drove. All. Night. And by, "we," I mean, "I." Because Dan does not drive my car. Even if he could drive stick or was on my insurance, there is no way he would have fit behind the wheel as I had the back packed to capacity. Like, knees in the dashboard packed to capacity. Like, I put stuff in the space under where my back seats fold down where you aren't really supposed to fit things because then the seats won't sit flat packed to capacity. (I put squishie things that we wouldn't need until we moved into our new place and stacked my pop's old foot locker on top. It sat flat. *victory fist pump*) Like, I had a lunchbox sized hole to view through the back of my car packed to capacity. Dan is claustrophobic and kind of hates how much stuff I felt was necessary.
The first drive fest went on for about twenty four hours. We stopped in Boulder to see some beautiful landscape up in the mountains. The plan was that we would camp on the Magnolia Trail in Colorado just up in the mountains from Boulder. The stuff I read online said that camping season was open, and while nights were supposed to get pretty chilly I figured that free camping in layers of jam-jams was probably better than spending any money on a hotel room. Dan had never seen mountains and we like to walk through woods and take pictures and sketch. I like to call it, "Low impact woods tromping." The snow was ankle deep. I am not that hardcore. I can handle chilly, but I am not doing ankle deep snow camping. It was even more disappointing that my camera was in no way convenient to get to. I had figured it wouldn't be a problem, because I had put it in an upper layer of packing that we would definitely surpass while setting up camp. My plan, clearly, was flawed.
I drank another coffee and we used some free wifi to find another campground where the weather was supposed to be warmer. Drove there. There was a detour that took a while to traverse. When we got there, more snow. At this point I was too tired to drive anymore. Clearly, we were both too tired to have the sense to look up the weather. So we got a room at a cheap and musky motor lodge. The bed was lumpy and uncomfortable. The fleece blanket was covered in cigarette burns. I am pretty sure the towels were dirty. I wrote a broken that was bordering on a cat walking over a keyboard facebook post about how we were alive and I crashed.
We stuck the key card in the door of the office, reloaded the car, and went on our way to my mom's in Cheyenne. It only took a couple of hours, but I really don't think I would have made it back out of the mountains without nodding off.
We dropped some paintings off with my mom and stayed the day and the night.
I don't want to tell it all at once, and I really have to do some job and apartment hunting. So, at this point I leave you with the above, and say..... To Be Continued.
Coming Soon: Episode Two: Cheyenne to Seattle