Mt Lemon was nice, but my dad, a BBQ, and hot tub were just an hour away. Flagstaff was a stopover on the way to Durango, a kitchen, and a dog named bear. Then there was the bed bug incident of Leadville and the ice cream fiasco but they weren’t so bad because we had Misha and Kevin to help us through our troubled times and a cushy stop in Denver and Fort Collins (real beds, pre-cooked meals, showers, laundry, thick air, comic books) to heal our wounds! But now we are in Wyoming, 5 hours, 7 towns, and 250 miles from our nearest friends. Any disaster that strikes, a punctured tire, seized engine, stuck car, or injured finger we’ll have to handle ourselves. The safety net is gone. We’ve swum beyond the reef. But why worry? A giant ocean of rolling hills, wild flowers, bird song, and white limestone cliffs await. I think I’ll go climb.