Once again, Joseph decided to terrify me as soon as we woke up. 

“I didn’t want to wake you last night,” he said, causing me to feel a strange sense of déjà vu from the beginning of our trip. “I heard bears all around our tent last night.”

“What?” I exclaimed. 

“Yeah, I actually heard one as soon as we got here last night, but I didn’t want to scare you so you could fall asleep,” Joseph said. I had heard footsteps last night, too, but Joseph had assured me it was just the people camping beside us. 

Luckily, our campsite was untouched. I was still exhausted, not because I had been up all night afraid of the bears searching for our food, but because I had been awake for much of the night trying to get warm. Up in the mountains just outside of Boulder, the air was frigid and the wind cut straight through the tent to where we had been sleeping. I normally sleep only with a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt, but last night I had worn a pair of long johns, an Under Armour shirt, a long-sleeve running shirt, pajama pants, a hoodie, and a hat, and I was still huddled in a ball shivering in my sleeping beneath two extra blankets.

I had a morning Zoom meeting, so we headed to a Dunkin’, where Joseph bought me some espresso so I could focus. After the meeting, we headed into Boulder to hike Green Mountain. It was a baby mountain – half the height of the mountain we trekked just a few days ago – so Joseph and I felt relatively relaxed while trekking up. 

Despite the lower elevation, the view was still stunning. Butterflies encircled us as we climbed the last final feet up a steep rock. Below us, the city of Boulder sat, and far above, taller mountains striped with snow dared us to hike higher. 

After spending minutes just soaking in the view, we started our trek back down. Near the end, we were passed by a woman wearing short shorts and tennis shoes. What I mean by that is she was only wearing only short shorts and tennis shoes. Joseph and I said “hello” as she passed. We both walked a few more paces before Joseph finally looked back at me, his eyes posing the question we were both waiting to ask: “Did you just see what I saw?” As I recalled her appearance, my inner eye automatically tried to put a shirt on this young woman because her lack of clothing seemed so strange to me.

But why did it seem strange? Men walk past me all the time without a shirt on, and I don’t even blink in their direction. And in movies and other media, I see scantily clad women all the time, even more often than I see their male counterparts. I also know how it feels to be a woman, to be out in the heat, perspiring through my shirt as the men I am with peel away their sweaty clothes with relief. It seems unfair. 

It is interesting how the fundamental values and world views that we are raised with are something we take for granted. We expect what is common knowledge to us to be common to everyone, when that just simply isn’t true. One thing I learned while at Stevenson University is that common knowledge is anything but common, as are my limiting world views created by my own upbringing.

In some ways, I almost envy this woman. She had a confidence about her that I have never known. By covering my body all my life, I have been taught to be ashamed of my curves and womanly features that are supposed to make me beautiful. 

Would I ever go hiking topless? Probably not, for many reasons, one being that I was raised to value modesty, and that means wearing a shirt, and also because I sunburn rather easily and that sounds terribly uncomfortable. But do I judge this woman? No. We may have differing opinions, but we are both human and just simply trying to enjoy a hike in the way that makes us feel most comfortable.

After our hike, Joseph and I ate a quick picnic lunch and then headed to downtown Boulder. We walked the brick-laden main street, perusing shops and stepping into those that piqued our interest. Joseph bought a hat, and I bought a sticker to commemorate our experience. We visited a chocolate shop, where he ordered a peanut butter truffle and I got a piece of dark chocolate coconut candy. Our favorite spot was a bookstore that has been a staple in Boulder since 1973. The Boulder Book Store spans three floors with books covering nearly every inch of it. Joseph and I eagerly explored, lingering over the most interesting titles and taking in the beauty of the classic ballroom filled with twisting plots instead of people.

After we had walked the extent of main street, Joseph and I settled ourselves on a park bench to relax and plan our last two days in Colorado. I cannot believe this trip is almost over. Just two weeks ago, road tripping to Colorado was merely an idea in our heads, and now, here we are, just an hour outside Denver, the city we have both been dreaming of returning to. 

As we took in the sights from that park bench, a man wearing what looked like faded, classic Arabian clothing and with bells tied around his neck sat on the patch of grass in front of us. After taking a long draw from the thickly rolled cigarette in his hand, he shook himself and began to move his hands and body in a way I can only associate with tai chi. 

Admonishing myself for staring, something my mother always chided me for, I couldn’t help but watch this man, wondering what his story was, where he came from, and what exactly he was currently doing. Luckily, I don’t think anyone considered what I was doing as rude – just about everyone around could not help but glance over every once in a while, and the man himself seemed to take little notice to any of us. 

It was getting late, so Joseph and I returned to our car and began the drive to our first campsite choice. It was a long, rocky dirt lane, filled with bumps and craters that threatened Joseph’s Mazda at every turn. As we drove farther into the site, it became clear that there were no open spaces left, but we were much too far in to consider turning around. Cringing, we continued driving down the road that looped around the campground, scraping up the bottom of the Mazda and often checking fearfully in the rear view mirrors to make sure we did not leave any car parts behind.

Luckily, we left the campsite with just a few scrapes but no serious damage. Discouraged, we drove another twenty minutes to where we camped last night. The loneliness of the site and the threat of bears had made us want to find a new place to sleep, but by now, the sun had set behind the mountains and we were running out of options.

We parked at the lowest site to be closer to the road and farther from the forest. I suggested that we sleep in the car because it would be warmer and safer, and to my surprise and relief, Joseph agreed. 

When we exited the car, we found a harsh wind had blown in since we left Boulder. It sliced through our clothes, leaving us both shivering and scrambling to get out of the elements as fast as possible. While I cleaned out the back of the car, Joseph made us dinner (tuna and chicken melt sandwiches). We turned on the heat in the car and ate in the back. Then we laid out our sleeping bags and settled in for another cool night in bear country.

Thinking back over my day, I couldn’t help but remember the two most interesting characters. Unfortunately, I don’t have names for either of them, and I don’t want to refer to them by their most obvious characteristics, so I will just call them “hiking woman” and “Boulder man.” I couldn’t help but wonder, once again, what their stories were. One of my favorite parts of traveling is all the incredible, interesting people I meet who are so different, and yet so similar, to myself. We are all human. I wish I had taken the chance to have a conversation with the hiking woman or the Boulder man. I honestly wish I had taken the chance to talk more to many of the people I have come into contact with on this trip. 

We are all people. As I’m writing this, I can’t help but think, with everything going on in the world right now, how often I have heard this message, and how little it seems to be sinking in. We are all human. We all have rights. We all deserve respect, love and understanding. We all desire to be heard, seen and valued, and one way we can gain self-respect and love is to extend that patience and kindness to others.

I will expand this message with one more. We are just human. This has two meanings: One, we are not perfect. We will make mistakes; sometimes we will be the toxic person that someone cuts out of their life. The important thing is to recognize where we have failed to love others well and then seek to better ourselves. 

And two, because we are just human, it is not our job to judge others. It is not our job to tell others if the way they are doing life seems wrong to us. It is our job to love others, just as they are. 

Travel reminds me of my humanness. It reminds me of what my basic needs are and what I truly desire in life. It reminds me of my limitations and my strengths.

Most importantly, travel reminds me that there is so much more to life that I know, and it is all there for me to experience if I am willing to do so with an open mind and heart.