[x_section style=”margin: 0px 0px 0px 0px; padding: 45px 0px 45px 0px; “][x_row inner_container=”true” marginless_columns=”false” bg_color=”” style=”margin: 0px auto 0px auto; padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_column bg_color=”” type=”1/1″ style=”padding: 0px 0px 0px 0px; “][x_text]The way down is difficult in its own way. Jarring and slippery, but the force of momentum makes it feel easier, go faster.
Yesterday a grizzled man waved at us as we turned toward the trailhead. Hollered that we should come back to visit his tiny bar. Interesting characters and tiny spaces an irresistible combo, we head down the hill excitedly.
Seeing the closed sign we look at each other. We’ve come this far, might as well pull in and check it out anyways. The man from yesterday sits on the porch. Leaned back, on the precipice of a nap.
Is the tiny bar open? Jason calls out. There are nine of us.
The man looks up. Waves happily. Bring it.
Originally an east coaster, Lee has bounced around Colorado for years. Thrilled to spend his first full summer at the ranch, he regales us with stories of the owner’s meet cute while handing out icy Kentucky-Mule-filled copper mugs. Wandering the property, peeking in the tipis, sitting by the massive fire pit, we declare this place pure magic. Decide someone needs to get married here stat so we can return for a more thorough celebration.
Back at the hotel, goodbyes made, Baylor and I jump into bed. Somehow end up packed together, taking up a sixth of the massive king-size space. I guess camp habits die hard.
Recounting the recent adventures, my heart swells. A proud mama, thrilled with all the kindness and love everyone gave Baylor. Giving him a squeeze I say, I’m so glad they let me bring you along for the adventure.
Letting out a sigh, Baylor cracks one eye open. Looks at me pointedly.
Giggling, I correct myself, I know, I know. You’re the star. I’m lucky they let me tag along with you.
We both know who is boss around here. No use pretending otherwise.
95 days down. Many to come.
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