Travel

Washington DC: The day trip we “forgot” to mention

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Me at the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial

It was a hot day in August when Joseph and I decided to visit our nation’s capitol.

I spent a day planning our itinerary, & then we left early on a Tuesday in Joseph’s black Mazda. As we drove into the city, the tall buildings I was expecting greeted us first, but then, lush, green trees surrounded our car.

Our first stop was the Smithsonian Zoo. To avoid zoo parking costs, we drove to Porter St. NW, thanks to a tip online. However, upon arriving, we found that there was only two hour parking available, which would not be long enough for us to explore the zoo. So instead, we drove around for a few minutes, and we luckily stumbled along free residential parking just a couple blocks away from the zoo. We ate a quick breakfast at the car and then walked the busy DC morning streets to our destination.

We strolled down the brick-laden streets that wound around the animal exhibits, peering in with bated breath and repeatedly turning away, disappointed. The animals were nowhere to be found. 

The air was already growing humid and sweat was brimming on our foreheads in the August morning air as we approached the elephant exhibit.

“What if the elephants are hiding, too?“ Joseph asked. I looked back at him, dread washing over me.

“I don’t want to think about it,” I said. Elephants are my favorite animal.

Luckily, the elephants were not hiding away like the other animals. They lumbered around their pen, grazing and enjoying the warm sun. I gazed at the majestic creatures with the same wonder I always do, looking deep into their amber eyes and seeing the same wisdom and beauty that always encapsulates me.

The Elephant Trails Exhibit at the Smithsonian Zoo

Once I had finally had my fill, we explored the rest of the zoo with much more success. The animals had finally come out. We laughed while we watched the otters play and gazed, fascinated, at the stately cats panting in the hot sun. 

Just before leaving the zoo, Joseph dragged me into the Great Ape House, my least favorite place in the zoo. I have been terrified of monkeys since I was a little girl, and that fear has not subsided in the slightest over the years. I watched in terror as the orangutans swung from branch to branch and the angry gorilla charged the glass.

I don’t think we lasted more than two minutes in that exhibit, but that was plenty of time for me. I would have rather spent more time with the elephants.

We were both famished by the time we left the zoo. While Joseph went to get our car, I stopped by Starbucks to get us two large iced lattes and our special mug that we get from every trip we take. We are currently trying to visit all 50 states, and from each one, we get a Starbucks mug from the “Been There” series. It’s our special little souvenir that represents where we have been, as well as our coffee addiction.

We drove to the National Mall, which proved to be an even trickier place to find parking. When we finally did find a spot, we were both growing hangrier by the minute. We walked to a nearby patch of grass and immediately began picnicking. We both felt much better with food in our stomachs, sipping ice cold coffee. 

Joseph & me at the Thomas Jefferson Memorial

By now, sweat was pouring down our backs. My hair was unkempt, and we were both itchy from the grass. It was quite tempting to jump into the glistening water beside us, or to turn home to take a blissfully cold shower. But after traveling in a car around the state of Colorado for nearly two weeks, we are no strangers to discomfort during our adventures, and we always try to make the most of it. So, as planned, we walked around the entire loop of the National Mall. Good conversation and the incredible statues kept us occupied. 

When we stepped into the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial, followed shortly by the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial, I couldn’t help but reflect on the current events rocking our country. The Black Lives Matter protests were still at their height. Anger had painted our country into two distinct colors of red and blue. The election was still a couple months away, but already I felt the divisiveness and fear in the hearts of my fellow Americans. 

Our walk took much longer than expected – hours later, we were ready for dinner. We drove to Georgetown, or rather, what we thought was Georgetown, and then drove an additional 45 minutes searching desperately for parking. When we finally found a small spot on a beaten down road, we discovered to our dismay that we were on the wrong side of the city. We were on the right street, but our actual destination was a seven minute drive away. It doesn’t sound like much, but it was not a walkable distance, and it meant we would have to search for parking again.

Me at the Washington Monument

We were exhausted but liberated when we drove into Georgetown and found it was the main street feel we had been searching for. The tall, ornate buildings had been replaced by small, locally-owned shops and restaurants. Luckily, we found parking within a few minutes, and then we searched for the restaurant we wanted to visit. We settled on an American cuisine (I mean, we were visiting the American capitol, after all); we dined at Clydes, a family-owned restaurant that believes in using local and sustainable ingredients in their cooking. The atmosphere was classy, but no doubt American. We sat down at a leather booth, surrounded by ornate woodwork, and listening to 80s rock music playing softly in the background. 

Joseph ordered a burger and some of the best French fries I have ever tasted in my life. I got a salad with grilled salmon. Neither of us were disappointed. The meat and seafood were cooked to a succulent perfection, seasoned so astutely we both couldn’t stop eating. 

We ended our meals satisfied and ready to return home after a long day. On our walk back to the car, we perused a few shops, but we were both too tired to take our time. 

When we arrived home, we each took long, cool showers and then crashed into our beds, ready for a long night’s rest. Visiting our nation’s capitol had been an exciting trip, one we would not soon forget. 

We didn’t tell this story right away, though. Life seemed to only grow crazier, both in our personal lives and in our nation. I was working way too many hours to also be regularly posting on a blog. However, every time I received a free moment and thought about posting this story, I thought it might seem tactless to describe a blissful day in our nation’s capitol with all of the tumultuous events occurring at that very place.

And then, the events of January 6 occurred, when fellow Americans stormed the U.S. Capitol building with guns and bombs, disrupting the peaceful transition of power our country has respected for hundreds of years. It was shocking to watch the videos, just as it was shocking to watch the violence take place during the Black Lives Matter protests last summer. And both times, I realized I sat safe at home while others were hurt. I sat at home while my brothers and sisters were killed. It made me sick to my stomach. 

Me outside the Smithsonian Zoo

So, why am I posting this story now? The timing is no better than it was before. Well, all I can say is, it was a beautiful day, in our nation’s capitol. Despite it being unbearably hot and an exhausting trip, it was a beautiful day spent in the city our nation depends on every day. 

When I think back to the trip now, I think about the moments I spent gazing up at the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial. I think about what he fought for, the reason he is remembered in granite and in our hearts today. I wonder what he would think of the divisiveness in our nation now. I wonder what he would say about the protests, the riots, the hurt, and the pain. 

I cannot speak for him, but what I will say is that I think the time has come for us to unify once again. I think it is time to rebuild, and to build it much better this time. I think it is time that we listen to one another instead of yell at one another, that we build each other up instead of tear each other down. I think it’s time for forgiveness, as hard as it may be, and to soften our hardened hearts to the possibility of love and building a better future. 

I don’t think it will be easy. I don’t think it is something I can just write and then it will happen. It’s going to take patience, hard work, and a lot of uncomfortable conversations. I imagine I will have to be in a lot of situations that are far more discomforting that this day in Washington, DC. But I am more than willing, and I hope you are, too. 

Because, as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” 

Joseph and me just a few minutes away from his house – we made it home just as the sun was setting

There has been a shadow of darkness over our nation, and hate has been spewed for generations. I know standing up against this overwhelming cloud of wickedness and corruption takes courage, but I think it also takes a lot of love. And if I want to be remembered for anything in my life, I want it to be for how I loved. I hope my writing is a part of the dim light shining through, and my intention is that whoever is reading this feels only love from my words. 

Let’s drive out the darkness together, one small step at a time, and let’s love the hate out of this nation, one person at a time. It’s what we all have the power to do. It’s what we were born here with the freedom to do. And as Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “The time always right to do what is right.”

P.S. Watch Joseph’s vlog about this trip on his YouTube channel – & don’t forget to subscribe!

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Pennsylvania day trip

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When the novel coronavirus changed the world in March, it was difficult to imagine what a future would look like. I took my life day by day, watching, observing, and trying to construct some form of comfort and continuity in my life. 

In the five months that have passed since that time, it has still been a struggle to find solace in a world that is rapidly changing around me. I have spent far too much time trying to plan for a future that is still mostly unknown. The few things that have brought me some consolation are the people in my life and the adventures I have taken now that my schedule is oddly free. It was these two things that brought me to Pennsylvania.

Traveling during the coronavirus can be daunting, especially when restrictions are constantly changing. However, after checking the latest travel restrictions this past week, I made plans to visit the state just next door to me where two people I was very excited to see are currently living. 

Since the start of the pandemic, I have not seen any friends in person. Apart from my new fiancé and a few of his family members, I have socially distanced myself from everyone. I have heard it has been suggested to call social distancing “physical distancing” to encourage people to still have social interactions through less conventional means, such as Zoom or FaceTime. Unfortunately, in my case, physical distancing really did become social distancing – text messages went unanswered and video calls became less frequent as people have grown tired of the constant screen time and so little authentic time spent with people. 

Caitlin & me at Stevenson University’s Relay for Life in 2018

So, when Caitlin and Mark agreed to meet for dinner in their town of Lancaster, Pennsylvania, I jumped at the chance to do a little more traveling and see two people I have dearly missed.

Caitlin and I became friends my first year at Stevenson University, and we have been close ever since. She invited me to come with her to Campus Crusade for Christ, an organization on campus focused on helping college students grow in their faith. It was there that I met Mark, who was one of the leaders in the club. The following year, Caitlin and Mark started dating. It was obvious from the beginning of their relationship that the two of them were perfect for one another. This past June, just 10 days after my own engagement, Mark proposed. So, this dinner was not just one to catch up, but to celebrate the life milestone we had all taken very recently. 

Joseph and I woke up early Saturday morning to get a jumpstart on our traveling. It is on our bucket list to visit all 50 states, and this was our chance to cross Pennsylvania off our list. 

In order to officially say we visited a state, there are a couple of things we have agreed we need to do. We have to explore a main street, eat (or drink) at a local restaurant, hike at a national park, and visit a tourist or scenic spot. Once we have done all of these things, we can go to a local Starbucks to buy our “Been There” series mug.

So far this summer, we have visited Colorado, Maryland and Virginia. Suffice it to say, I was very excited to add a fourth mug to our collection that has been growing on my windowsill. 

Our first stop was Gettysburg National Military Park, a place shrouded in American history. The morning was thankfully still cool when we began our relaxed, four-mile hike on the Johnny Reb Trail. The paved path wound through cemeteries and monuments commemorating the lives of fallen soldiers and to tell the story of the Battle of Gettysburg. Stone statues marked the spots where the infantry moved during the fight. According to the National Park Service website, the Battle of Gettysburg was a turning point during the Civil War that helped secure the eventual victory of the Union. Known for being the bloodiest battle of the Civil War, it was this particular battle that inspired President Lincoln’s famous “Gettysburg Address.” 

Our next stop was Starbucks. It was a little early in the day to already be buying our mug, but we knew we wouldn’t check off all our destinations until that night, and since it was now late morning, we were both desperate for coffee. We bought our mug and two lattes, and then we headed to downtown Gettysburg to walk Steinwehr Avenue, our main street of choice for the day.

While we had been hiking, I had seen people dressed in nineteenth-century style clothing. I had assumed these people were tour guides or people doing reenactments at the park. However, as we walked down the street, we saw multiple people dressed in the same garb. Some played the part of their costume, talking as if they had just stepped off the battlefield, while others I caught checking their cell phones that they had hidden away in their petticoats. Either way, their attire alongside the classic architecture and shops filled with historical artifacts created an immersive experience I thoroughly enjoyed. 

After walking around town, we drove to Lancaster. Our dinner reservation was not for a few hours, but we had bought tickets to ride on the Strasburg Railroad, the oldest continuously operating railroad in the country. According to the Strasburg Railroad website, the railroad was founded in 1832 to transport both freight and passengers across Pennsylvania. Neither Joseph nor I had ever ridden on a train before. We excitedly boarded the bright red locomotive and sat across from each other on the bench seats. When the whistle blew and the train chugged out of the station, we stuck our heads out of the windows to feel the wind against our faces and to watch the corn fields whizz past. 

While riding, we were treated to learning a bit of Pennsylvania history, culture and superstition. We were told that it had been this train that had taken Abraham Lincoln and his wife, Mary, to his inauguration in 1861. Unfortunately, a mere four years later, it was also the train that had taken Mary and the body of the deceased president back home. Out our windows, we were able to see Amish farmers working in the fields while we learned from our tour guide about the plain lifestyle. Almost halfway through our trip, the train came to a full stop, and our guide encouraged us to be very quiet so we could hear the ghost whistle of the engine on the Lancaster, Oxford and Southern Railway, which has been out of service since 1918. Our train’s whistle pierced the air, and without a second’s delay, another whistle answered. 

“Is it an echo,” I asked Joseph at the same time he turned to me and posed the same question.

“Did someone ask if it was an echo,” our tour guide asked jovially over the loudspeaker. “I am so disappointed. We pay that farmer 27 dollars a day just to whistle back at us.”  I laughed, unsure if the guide was joking or not. I guess we will never know for sure if it is an echo, another whistle, or if there really is a ghost locomotive riding the rails in Pennsylvania.

We had a little extra time between the end of our ride and dinner, so we headed to downtown Lancaster to walk another main street. As soon as we stepped out of the car, a candy store caught my eye. I ran to it like an excited child while Joseph lagged behind. 

Sweetish Candy is a Swedish candy and hygge shop that sells imported Scandinavian goods, including a plethora of sweets made with wholesome ingredients. Entranced by all the goodies, we bought two bars of Icelandic bitter chocolate made with Icelandic sea salt and bourbon vanilla. After spending so much time roaming around the shop we had very little left to explore the main street, so we headed back to our car to go to dinner. A nearby gas station bathroom served as our spot to get ready, so when we walked into the restaurant, we looked as if we had not been running around in the humid Pennsylvania heat all day.

We met Cait and Mark at Loxley’s, a popular, upscale restaurant in Pennsylvania. To enter, we walked across a bridge that overlooked a manmade pond filled with ginormous lily pads and big, bright orange fish. Our friends, who had arrived a few minutes before us, were seated on the patio outside. We greeted each other with hugs and exclamations of congratulations. As our waiter, Jonah, served us drinks and appetizers, Caitlin and I studied each other’s rings while we all had the chance to share the stories of our proposals and how life and wedding planning has been going since then. Once dinner was served, we turned the conversation to what post-graduation life has been like, to our work lives, and to sharing how general life during a pandemic has affected each of us. The world grew dark around us as we continued talking long after the plates had been cleared and our glasses had emptied, enjoying the experience of finally being able to talk with close friends without a screen placed between us. 

As Cait and I both began to yawn, Joseph and Mark called an end to the evening. We hugged goodbye, promising to visit again soon, and then each returned to our own cars. On the drive home, I felt a sense of peace that I have not yet experienced since the beginning of the pandemic. Life has not returned to normal, and I don’t think it ever will, but the day’s adventures had been a reassurance that this new way of living can still be just as enjoyable and exciting.

Traveling through a place filled with history was a reminder to me of just how much the world has changed and how much it will continue to change throughout my life. Walking around town surrounded by people in bonnets and top hats reminded me that wearing a mask is simply the latest change in fashion, and to be perfectly honest, I would happily choose to wear that than the corsets I saw those other women donning. Like the first gunshot fired during a war, the novel coronavirus changed the world as we know it forever, and we are now in the midst of understanding what this new world will be like. However, in the thick of all this uncertainty, there are two things I now know for sure that have given me hope: First, that life is always changing, so the best way to live life to the fullest is to embrace the new and seek to find ways to still confront and encounter even more novel experiences. And secondly, it will always be the people in my life and the relationships I have built that will bring me comfort in times of elation and struggle, and though it may try, social distancing cannot take that away from me. 

Life is not what it used to be, but hopefully, with a little mindset shift and perhaps a little extra effort, we can make it even better than what we ever envisioned.

P.S. Joseph has launched his vlog! Check out his perspective of today’s events by watching the video below. If you like it, please consider subscribing to his YouTube channel – every follow helps.

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Arizona vacation: Day 5

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My family having lunch at Pam’s & Rick’s house – from left to right: Dad, me, Mom, Kathleen, Pam, Samuel, Gus, Thomas, Bev, Jake, Isabella, and Steve

Today, I started my morning far earlier than my body wanted. The heat in Sun City becomes unbearable by 7:00am, so we had to start running as soon as the sun rose. 

Dad and I mapped our route to end at Starbucks, and afterwards we each enjoyed our first cup of espresso since the trip began. After four days of very little sleep, my body needed that boost of caffeine.

Getting up so early gave us the luxury of relaxing for the rest of the morning. We sipped and enjoyed our coffees on the veranda outside until it was too hot to sit, and then we sat in the air conditioned living room. Bev and Gus had locally grown grapefruits, and even though they are strictly not allowed by my current low-FODMAP diet, I couldn’t help but taste a small bite. The citrus fruit burst inside my mouth, yielding a delightfully tart juice that was the perfect balance between bitter and sweet. 

At noon, we left to go to Pam’s house. Pam is Bev’s eldest daughter. She lives in Fountain Hills, an hour away from Sun City. On the way, we chatted with Bev and Gus and shared stories and pictures from our latest life adventures. The hour flew by. Sooner than I realized, we were arriving at the mansion-sized homes situated on the sides of canyons, overlooking red rocks and the valley far below. 

Pam is a beautiful soul. There are some people who just seem to understand life at a different level. They are humble, loving and giving to no end. They are the kind of people you can spend hours with without even realizing the passage of time, and when you do leave, you feel better about yourself and inspired to love others well. This is the kind of person Pam is. She was an incredible hostess, and despite the fact that I had never met her before, she greeted me with love and treated me as if I was her own daughter. At the end of our visit, she hugged me tightly and requested I return any time I needed a place to sleep. 

While at Pam’s house, we spent time with her and her husband, Rick, as we savored our last moments with Steve and the kids. From here, we would part ways – Steve and the kids would return home while we drove back to Bev’s and Gus’ house. We talked and shared a commemorative last meal together. The hours ran away from us quicker than we could chase them, and before we knew it, it was time to say goodbye. 

Uncle Steve and Mom just before saying goodbye

It was hard to say farewell not knowing when I would see them again. Before this trip, I had not visited Steve in eight years; the kids had truly been children and toddlers, and I had been a mere freshman in high school. Now, those “kids” are almost full grown, and I have graduated from college, started a career, and gotten engaged. So much has happened since we last visited, and so much could happen before we see one another again. In another eight years, even the youngest will be a legal adult and I will be in my thirties. 

I hugged each of my relatives, requesting that, this time, we wouldn’t wait as long until we saw each other again. Thomas seemed the most upset by the separation; he gave me at least five earnest hugs, assuring me each time that he would come to visit me in Maryland next year. I really do hope that we can make that happen. 

After Steve and the kids left, we said goodbye to Pam and Rick and began the drive home. It was a somber mood in the car. Luckily, we had a sermon Pam recommended to distract us. The message was focused on kindness, and it used the movie “A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood” to lead its trajectory. 

Playing cards a few days ago at Steve’s house – from left to right: Sam, Kathleen, me, Thomas, Mom, and Jake

Kindness truly is what makes life beautiful. Mr. Rogers said the way to become successful in life is to be kind, and I think that must be true. I have never felt more fulfilled than after a day when I believed I truly did some good in this world, when I had been kind to others. The message reminded us that we should never so busy in our lives that we don’t realize or recognize when other people need help, and that we should extend kindness to all, even those who do not give it back to us. So many of us think of kindness as conditional; if someone is kind to one of us, we are kind back. But the beauty of true love – of God’s love – is that it is unconditional; there is nothing someone has to do to earn it, and, even more importantly, there is nothing someone can do to get rid of it. As Christ’s followers, we are called to love like that.

When we arrived home, the bittersweet taste had not left us. After such a long day and with another early morning ahead of us, we went to bed early. Lying in the guest bedroom, I couldn’t help but think back over the last few days of our trip.

It’s the finitude of moments in life that makes them both sweet and bitter. I can’t help but feel sad when wonderful moments come to an end. But endings are truly beautiful. Without them, we would not appreciate the time we have. Endings bring closure to long-awaited journeys and hope for an unknown future. Endings are what remind us to make the most of the moments we are in, and they are what make memories so precious. 

Eating dinner our first night at Steve’s house – from left to right: Thomas, Jake, me, Samuel, Kathleen, Mom, and Dad

The sermon today and the interactions I had with my family members also reminded me what makes endings a little sweet rather than only bitter. After all, there certainly are endings that leave us with only a bitter taste in our mouths. What gives moments meaning is the kindness exchanged within them. Love makes life worth living. 

The best way to make the most of the moment I am in is to focus on being kind to those around me. When I am that devoted to being kind and cognizant of others’ needs, it helps me to remember to be present with those around me. So, when those moments end and it is time to say goodbye, the farewell is not nearly as bitter because I have made so many fond memories with those I love. 

The most beautiful thing about today’s ending is that I know it is not final. While I am not sure when I will see these family members again, I do know that we will be reunited someday. The beauty of today’s ending is that, while this chapter has come to a close, the story is not yet finished.

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Colorado road trip: Day 13

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One year ago, I spent my Fourth of July running into Salida, Colorado with my teammates. We were part of 4K for Cancer, a fundraiser created by the Ulman Foundation. Last year, two running and two biking teams spent their summer traveling across the country to raise money for young adults impacted by cancer. 

That was one of the most impactful summers of my life. For seven weeks, I challenged myself, physically, mentally and spiritually, more than I ever had before. I met twenty of the most incredible people I have ever known, who have continued to dedicate their lives to helping others. An entire summer was dedicated to a cause much bigger than myself, and I will never regret that experience or the memories I made on that trip.

But that was the summer my chronic health illnesses, which I had spent years trying to improve, became so much worse. My self-confidence was crushed. I felt labeled by my disease. I hated the idea that my health was burdensome on anyone. The last year has been a battle against those still worsening health conditions, which ultimately lead me to being on the new supplements and diet that have made this trip a bit more complicated. 

This morning, I woke up in Salida, Colorado, ready to once again spend the Fourth of July in one of the most beautiful states in America. Last year, I would never have dreamed that I would be returning to Colorado so soon, nor that I would be watching the fireworks from the same place that I did then. And I could have never imagined that the man I was dating then, the man I had probably bored my teammates by talking about so much, would be here with me, and that we would be engaged.

We began our day with a morning hike at Waterdog Lakes. Joseph had chosen the trail because he realized we had not yet done a lake trail in Colorado. When we arrived at the trail head, we met Troy, a Colorado local from Denver who told us to keep hiking to the second lake because it’s better than the first. Armed with that knowledge, we began trekking up the steep incline of the mountain. We passed cascading waterfalls, climbed rocky paths, and wound through lush pine trees before finally arriving at the first, clear, blue lake.

The second lake was more difficult to find. While searching, we met up with two other Colorado locals, Hannah and Olivia, speech pathologists from Colorado Springs. They had met in graduate school in Iowa, and they just happened to both accept jobs and move to the same apartment building in the same week, just before the novel coronavirus shut down the country. Enjoying the extra company, the four of us continued our search for the trail. What we ended up doing instead was climbing up a pile of boulders that led us to where the lake was nestled between the trees and mountain peaks. We said farewell to our new friends at the top and sat for a few minutes to enjoy the view before beginning the long walk down. It had taken us two hours to get to the top of the mountain, and there were thunder clouds once again threatening us in the distance. 

Luckily, we made it to the bottom safely, just as Troy and his family were finishing their hike. We talked with him about the hike, and he recommended another trail just a few miles up the road at Monarch Crest. Joseph excitedly proposed that we wake up early for a sunrise hike tomorrow morning before beginning the drive to Maryland, and I agreed.

We headed to Salida next to spend our last day in Colorado relaxing and enjoying our time together. Just as we parked, the clouds began to sprinkle rain on us, so we hurriedly packed a lunch and headed to the park. We huddled under a tree to eat. In the middle of the park, a crowd was gathered to watch traveling circus performers from Chicago. We watched the dancing performers and trapeze artists from a distance, gasping when we were fooled into thinking a trick went wrong and applauding enthusiastically at the end of each act. 

Main street was our next destination. We walked the shops, pausing to eat a scoop of ice cream and dairy-free gelato from a local parlor and to buy lattes from a small coffee shop. 

The afternoon flew by, and before we knew it, the fireworks were only a few hours away. We made dinner at our car and then walked around the park and neighborhoods for an evening stroll. As the sky grew dark, we returned to our car, where we set up pillows to sit outside and watch the fireworks. We had parked just below the memorable “S” mountain in Salida, where the letter is painted in white near the top peak. For Independence Day, the “S” was lit up with  white lights and a string of red lights formed a heart around the letter. We finally opened the personal-sized wine bottles we had been saving for just this occasion and toasted our final evening in Colorado.

The festivities began just after the world finally grew dark. Mountain bikes strung with lights appeared from the top of the mountain and wound their way down in an ant line formation. The crowd cheered enthusiastically, prompting one young spectator nearby to ask his parents if the bikers were famous. 

The expectation in the crowd mounted as the bikers finished their descent. We all waited excitedly for the first boom and crack that lit up the night sky.

As bright colors filled the sky and gold dust rained down toward the mountain, I couldn’t help but think about the journey that brought me there (and I’m not just referring to the last two weeks). The last year of my life has been a journey that brought me to this moment. It has not been an easy year – between personal health struggles, starting my own business, the coronavirus pandemic, and so much more, this has been a tough year for me and many people. But there is no doubt in my mind that it has been the best year of my life, and a lot of that is owed to the man that was sitting beside me, watching the fireworks. I have grown a lot in the last year, and with his support, I have learned more about myself and who I am with my health problems, not who I am because of them. 

So, there I was, back in Salida, Colorado, sitting beneath the fireworks, exactly where I was a year ago. In that moment, it was as if nothing had changed. But I came back to this place changed. I am now older, stronger, and more confident than the last time I was here.

There was something poetic about ending a chapter of my life with fireworks crackling above my head. Sitting there, my head rested on Joseph’s shoulder in one of the most beautiful places in the world, I could not think of a better place to begin the next part of my story.

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Colorado road trip: Day 12

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Today was supposed to be our first day driving back home. We were going to stop by Omaha, Nebraska to spend a day there, and then we planned to slowly make our way back to Maryland. Instead, we are spending two more days in Colorado, and I could not be more thrilled.

Our first stop today was Cheyenne Mountain State Park. We didn’t have enough time to hike the mountain itself, so we chose a 6.3-mile trail that still promised great views and a decent elevation. 

The trail wound around itself, leading us through unnecessary loops in the hot sun. Our exasperation mounted when we discovered that we had made a wrong turn and we had to backtrack a quarter-mile. 

We were both relieved when the trail led us out of the grassy field and into the cool shade of the trees. A distant thundercloud grew closer, giving us a cool breeze and protecting us from the sun’s rays. 

Unfortunately, the views from below the mountain were not spectacular, so we focused more on our conversation than our surroundings. We talked about future plans, both growing more excited by the minute. When we had the chance to turn back, we decided to hike a little longer to finish out the loop. By the end of the hike, we were both exhausted but felt accomplished. Our hike had extended over an extra two miles and had taken up over three hours of our day.

We ate lunch at a picnic table in the park, and then we headed to downtown Colorado Springs. We bought lattes and strolled as we sipped. The sidewalks were crowded with people, many of whom seemed to have forgotten that there is a pandemic. Joseph and I were two of the few people wearing masks. We dipped into a few shops, but there were not many that sparked our interest, so we left soon after and headed to Pikes Peak, one of Colorado’s 14ers (mountains in Colorado with an elevation of at least 14,000 feet) and the spot that inspired the song “America the Beautiful” by Katherine Lee Bates.

As we drove up the windy mountain road, I saw something that awoke the child at heart in me. We found Santa’s workshop.  

The North Pole near Colorado Springs is really just a small amusement park (which was, unfortunately, shut down when we visited) and a gift shop. Despite this and Joseph’s exasperated reminders that it was July, I still felt so joyful surrounded by Christmas trees and sweaters. 

After perusing the shop, Joseph and I continued the drive up the mountain as the first few drops of rain fell. The distant thunder cloud from this morning had finally reached us.

We reached the gate for Pikes Peak, where the attendant told us it would cost $15 per person. The price seemed a bit steep, even for such a tall, majestic mountain. Besides this, the rain was beginning to fall more earnestly, and the attendant told us if it got any worse, the mountain would most likely be closed. Not wanting to pay the money if we wouldn’t even get the reward of the view, we decided to turn back and drive down the mountain.

It was a good choice. Just as we reached the parking lot of Santa’s workshop, the light rain turned to a downpour, and then a hailstorm. Joseph and I stared as marble sized pieces of ice pelted our windshield. 

We decided to start the drive to Salida earlier than expected. That, too, was a smart choice  because traffic slowed our progress. When we did arrive, it was still raining, so we tied our tarp to nearby trees to create a makeshift shelter. Underneath this, we made dinner and set up camp.  

Nothing today went according to plan. It was filled with impromptu choices and adventures. But that’s okay, because this entire day was an impromptu choice, an unexpected part of our  impromptu road trip adventure. Planning is great, and I am glad we planned as much as we did for this trip because it made it possible for us to visit so many amazing places and see so many beautiful views. Sometimes, though, the best days are days like today, when nothing goes according to plan, but the journey itself and the good company make it more than worth it. 

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Colorado road trip: Day 11

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I had forgotten how amazing it felt to sleep in a bed. I woke up huddled in blankets, my head gently rested on a pillow, my body cuddled by the mattress. For the first time in over a week, I felt well-rested, and I started my day without any aches and pains. 

Joseph and I both showered to take advantage of the luxury of indoor plumbing while we still had it. Then we packed up our belongings and returned to our road trip lifestyle as if the last 18 hours of lavish comfort had never happened. 

Our plan for today was to spend the entire day in the city we had been most excited to visit – Denver. Before we left, I searched for the best coffee shops in the area. We chose to go to Huckleberry Roasters (Huck), even though the reviews said it was pricey, because, with its two U.S. Roaster Championship awards, it is supposed to be one of the best places to get coffee in the country. The cafe, like last night’s restaurant, was somewhere we never would have found had we not been looking for it. It was outside of downtown Denver, just on the outskirts of a neighborhood. The storefront had a brightly painted mural that attracted the eye, but never would I have known by the appearance that it was supposedly the best coffee in the city. Joseph and I each ordered an iced latte and sat at a picnic table in front of the store. 

All our expectations were met. The coffee was a tad over-priced – six dollars for a latte is a bit much – but it was the best we had ever tasted. The milk was steamed to a silky perfection that blended smoothly with the richness of the espresso. Satisfied, we headed to City Park for a late morning walk while we sipped on our coffee. 

It was hotter than we expected. As we walked around the park, sweat poured down my forehead and pooled in the crease of my elbow that was bent to hold my drink. All we managed was a short stroll before deciding to head downtown, hoping the shops would at least provide some air conditioned relief. 

Our first mission in the city was to find a restroom, which was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. Denver began to lose its magic after thirty minutes of searching without any luck. We finally stumbled along some public restrooms in the downtown mall, but we needed a code to unlock the doors. To obtain this code, we had to purchase an item from a local shop; then the cashier would reveal the secret numbers to us. 

At this point, we were both losing patience. Luckily, someone exiting the men’s bathroom held the door open for Joseph, and just as I was about to give up, a friendly custodian, who must have seen the desperation in my eyes, unlocked the women’s bathroom door for me. 

By now, Joseph and I were hungry for lunch, so we sat on a bench in the mall and ate the picnic we had packed. Once our stomachs were full, we began to peruse the shops. 

Last night, driving through Denver, I had felt that magnetic energy I had experienced last summer. Gazing up at the lights, I was enamored once again by the dynamism of the city set against the beautiful backdrop of distant mountains. But today, amid the current climate of the pandemic and recent riots, Denver revealed itself to be a city like any other. We were approached by people desperate for money, and people far too high to remember why they approached us. Many of the shops were closed, some temporarily and others permanently, including the bookstore I had fallen in love with last summer, where two locals had written personalized poem just for me. Glass windows of shops had been boarded up and graffitied. The hashtag GEORGEFLOYD appeared everywhere, from spray-painted murals to electronic billboards flashing down at us. 

Despite how separated we have felt during this trip from the tragedies and challenges of the last few months, we have not escaped the troubling lives we left behind. In less than a week, we will be back in Maryland, and I am sure our lives will go back to the way they were before. Nothing will have changed. 

My only hope is that we will come back changed. I hope we return to our lives more compassionate, more worldly, more empathetic than when we left. I hope we will have more perspective about the current state of affairs in this country, and perhaps that will help us to know better how we can serve those around us. The reality is that the world around us has not changed, but that does not mean we cannot bring change to our personal realities. 

When we reached the end of the 16th street mall, we sat on the steps of a closed store to rest and figure out where we wanted to go next. To our immense disappointment, we discovered the fireworks scheduled for tonight were cancelled. Just in the last week, Denver decided not to encourage any more crowds than were already congregating. Our original plan was to see the fireworks tonight as a finale to our trip in Colorado, and then we would take our time driving back to Maryland. However, we decided it was more important for us to see the fireworks in this state than to spread out the driving time during our trip back. 

So, sitting on those steps in the heart of Denver, we decided to extend our time in Colorado by two more days, and we began to plan which attractions we wanted to add to the trip. We found a fireworks show in Salida (which is, ironically, where I saw the fireworks a year ago), so we based our itinerary on that. 

We headed back to the car, nervous but excited about our new plan. The first thing that needed to happen to make this extended trip work was we needed to buy more food. There was enough to fuel us for a few days of driving, but not for days of hiking and other, more strenuous activities. We stopped by a Walmart on our way to Colorado Springs to pick up food and finally reach a resolution to another important journey we have been on: the hunt for low-FODMAP ice cream.

I have been craving ice cream since this trip began, and I reached my breaking point last night after dinner. We had stopped at gas stations, supermarkets, and ice cream shops last night and earlier today, but we had not had any luck. However, in the frozen section of Walmart, we found one, small ice cream bar that I could eat. Bolstered by this, we drove to the same Bass Pro parking lot we had stayed at a few days ago, where we hurriedly made dinner. As another treat for ourselves, we had bought a small bag of shrimp to eat with the rice we had packed for the trip. It was a nice change from the canned tuna and chicken we have been eating for days. 

By the time we ate the ice cream, it had melted to the consistency of a milkshake, but it was still just as tasty as it would have been frozen. 

Joseph set up his hammock while I prepared the back of the car for me to sleep. The night spent in a bed seemed like a distant memory. But, as I laid down to rest, I couldn’t help but think of how privileged I am. I, too, have struggled during this pandemic because of my compromised immune system and a lack of work, but I have been blessed with an incredible support system that has helped make sure I have been taken care of. I am not wanting for anything. And while some people are worrying about food, illness, and riots, I am on a road trip in one of the most beautiful states in America with my fiancé. While some people are facing challenges simply because of the color of their skin, I am on the adventure of a lifetime with a beautiful ring and a future full of opportunity waiting for me when I return home. 

The world has not changed. I realize that this road trip is a blessing, that all of the inconveniences, difficulties, and challenges we have faced during it are nothing in comparison to what many people face in their daily lives. I know that the challenges I have always faced in my life, from being a woman, from struggling with chronic illness since the age of 10, from simply being human, cannot compare to what other people have experienced.

But I have changed on this trip. Even in these short 11 days, I have grown and matured, and I have gained new perspectives of this world around me. I have learned more about myself and others, and I have grown stronger. I am ready to return home and find where I belong to do good in this world. There is so much in me that I am ready to share; this blog is just a start. 

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Colorado road trip: Day 10

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Be courageous.

When I woke up this morning, the shirt I changed into was the one I earned last summer when I ran across the country with the Ulman Foundation. It’s a bright yellow shirt, with the words “Be Courageous” emblazoned on the front in dark blue letters. It’s one of my favorite shirts, one that always reminds me of the feat I accomplished last year and that serves as a helpful reminder for my life. 

Already feeling encouraged, I excitedly began my day, even though the difficulties of this trip were starting to get to both Joseph and me. Our biggest complaint today was how badly we needed to shower. The way we smelled was starting to offend even us, so I can only imagine what other people thought. My feet, the one part of me I had not been able to get clean even in our makeshift outdoor showers, were caked in dirt. 

Luckily, we reserved an Airbnb for tonight in Denver. For much of our day, instead of being excited about the adventures we were experiencing, we were most looking forward to showering. Every hour, Joseph gave me the countdown of how long it would be until we would be clean again. 

We started our day with an easy two-and-a-half-mile hike with a view of the mountains in the background. We then stopped at a local library so I could teach a yoga class via Zoom, and then we headed to Chautauqua Park for a more strenuous afternoon hike. 

Per a local’s suggestion, we did the Flatiron trail. It was another two-and-a-half-mile hike, but this one had an elevation of over 1,400 feet. The trail took us straight up the side of the mountain with no place to rest. Breathing heavily, we managed to keep conversation going as we scaled the rocky landscape. 

“Is it worth it,” Joseph jokingly asked some hikers on their way down the trail.

“Oh, yes,” one woman said. “The view is always worth it.”

She was not wrong. Joseph and I sat at the top, feeling accomplished and satisfied. The flatirons resembled rockslides caught at a single, picturesque moment and left that way for eternity. The rocks formations slanted against the mountainside, creating three, nearly identical plates. In the distance, we could see the mountain we hiked yesterday against the backdrop of taller, snowier peaks. 

The trip down was long and tiring. My legs were shaking from the amount of exertion I have placed on them over the last few days. I was definitely ready for a good night’s rest. 

We ate a quick picnic lunch in the park, and then we began the drive to Denver. On the way, we stopped at a Starbucks to purchase lattes and the souvenir I have been most excited about. Last year during 4K for Cancer, one of my teammates, Illona, told me about the mugs she buys at Starbucks everywhere she visits. Each mug is designed for the particular city, state or country the Starbucks is located at, with the name of the place and images reminiscent of different landmarks located there. As a world traveler, she had mugs from many different countries. She told me how, when she had guests, she coyly would ask them from where they would like to drink their coffee: Paris? California? And then she would serve them coffee in the corresponding mug.

I thought it was such a cute idea at the time. Then, as Joseph and I grew more serious in our relationship, I thought it was the perfect souvenir for us to get on all of our travels together. We are avid coffee drinkers, and Starbucks stores are everywhere. We were bound to dip into one on all of our future travels at some point, so why not get a corresponding mug from each place to make a collection? 

The Colorado mug is the first of our collection. I can’t wait to see how many other mugs we will add to the shelf in our future home.

Our Airbnb was tall, blue house in a nice neighborhood just twenty minutes outside of Denver. The first and most important thing on both of our agendas was taking a shower. Joseph went first, and he came back looking refreshed, his shin a couple shades lighter now that the dirt was scrubbed from it. 

“I feel like a new man,” he told me. “I feel like we are a different species now.” 

I jumped up eagerly, grabbed my toiletries, and went into the bathroom. I turned the water the temperature up as hot as I could stand, and then I let it cascade down me, watching dirt run off my skin and into the drain. I massaged my head with shampoo until my fingers were numb, and then I scrubbed my skin until it felt raw. Even after all that, I’m not sure I was entirely clean, but I finally felt human again. I can’t even express how revitalizing that shower was. After ten days without one, it felt like a luxury.

Joseph and I relaxed in the room in our sweats until it was time to get ready for dinner. I had searched for the best places to eat in Denver and then carefully scanned the menus of each place for something I could eat on my new, restrictive diet. I found two places, and yesterday, Joseph and I made reservations at Roxy on Broadway. 

We dressed up in fancy clothes, he in khakis and a button-down red and black plaid shirt, and I in my classic little black dress. Feeling as if we were first-class citizens, not two young adults who had just spent the last week camping and sleeping in their car, we exited the house and approached our car. It seemed odd that we no longer matched our ride; while we had transformed our appearance in the matter of two hours, this car was a stark reminder of where we had actually come from, with its cracked windshield, duct-taped rooftop carrier, and dirt streaks. But this car had carried us all the way from Maryland to the last stop of this adventure; no other mode of transportation would be fitting to carry us to our celebratory dinner.

Roxy on Broadway was hidden away from the bustle of downtown Denver. With its garage-style door and simple, brick appearance, it could easily be overlooked. But inside, it was a 1920s era dream. Candle-lit chandeliers hung from the ceiling in front of the bar stacked with local liquors. Tables and chairs had been set up for customers to sit theatre-style in front of a small stage, where two musicians played. The menu featured classic prohibition-era cocktails, while the food was modern and diverse. 

The staff was pleasant and accommodating. When we had made a reservation, Joseph had written in the notes that I was on a low-FODMAP diet, something most people don’t and probably will never have to know about. While the menu featured multiple gluten-free and vegan options, it was difficult to be absolutely sure which selections would not aggravate my stomach. The chef, however, had already taken this into consideration. I was assured by our hostess upon arrival that he was fully aware of my needs. I ordered a kale salad, and the chef whipped up a homemade oil and vinegar dressing so that I could enjoy it without any adverse side effects. Meanwhile, Joseph enjoyed a pulled pork sandwich with a side of the best french fries I have ever tasted. They were substantial, crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, and seasoned to perfection.

Joseph and I toasted all that we have accomplished and experienced together over these last few months in quarantine – his graduation, his birthday, and our engagement. It was our first drink together in a restaurant, and I am so glad we waited. It felt good to toast to life in a city a mile high in the sky. 

The musical entertainment for the night featured Erik Fellenstein, a Colorado local. He started his show with a guitar accompaniment, but the second half he performed by himself. Joseph and I stayed longer than expected to catch his full performance. We thoroughly enjoyed his jazzy, folksy style, and many times we caught ourselves laughing at his jokes. His songs were entertaining, both lyrically and instrumentally, and I was struck constantly by the breadth of his talent. He sang with soul, and he played the violin with a richness that is often lacking by musicians.

At the end of his performance, Joseph and I clapped with the rest of the crowd, sipped the last of our drinks, and then left to visit Larimer Square. To our disappointment, the lights strung across the street were still lit, but the shops were closed. Vowing to return tomorrow, we returned to our AirBnb for a much-needed night’s rest in a luxuriously warm and soft bed. 

Be courageous. It was the message on the shirt given to me after I had completed the most courageous adventure I have ever been on, and it is the message I still try to remind myself of every day. While 4K is still probably the most amazing feat I have ever accomplished, I have the opportunity every day to do something courageous. It took courage to go on this road trip, especially when I had just started such a strict and limiting diet for my health, which has been declining steadily for the past year. It took courage to have the tough conversations I have had with Joseph during our long car rides, and to explore deeper into my own psyche during those trying moments. It took courage to place my trust in another person, to be vulnerable with him, and to promise to spend the rest of my life with him, for better or for worse, in sickness and in health. 

These moments that take courage can be daunting at their best and absolutely petrifying at their worst, but as Joseph and I were reminded by that Boulder local during our hike today, the mountain is always worth the climb. The courage it takes is always worth the adventure it takes me on. 

Follow your dreams. Explore life outside of your comfort zone. Be courageous. You never know what amazing adventures life will have waiting for you when you do. 

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Colorado road trip: Day seven

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Today, I finally woke up to the quintessential Colorado morning I have been waiting for. Shivering, I sat up in my sleeping bag, surrounded by pine trees and mountains adorned with snow. The air was clean and crisp in my lungs, leaving my body feeling refreshed and renewed. 

Joseph made us some coffee and we started driving. Our first stop today was Frisco. Originally, we had just planned on walking the main street, but last night, I found a short hike for us to do. Or, at least, I thought it would be a short hike. It was only four miles round trip. What I did not consider was that it was a hike up a mountain, and the reason the mileage was so short was because the trail went straight up with no place to rest or catch our breath. 

Mount Royal was one of the toughest but most rewarding hikes Joseph and I have done. Breathing heavily, we climbed the two miles upward, the equivalent of 140 floors on my FitBit watch. To put that into perspective, the empire state building is 102 floors. 

The view was more than worth it. On top of the summit, looking down on the world, we both felt accomplished and in awe of the beauty around us. From that height, the town of Frisco looked like a model village with little toy boats floating in the harbor. 

The trip down the mountain took us just as long as the hike up. It was not difficult, but the steep grade and loose rocks and dirt made it difficult to find our footing. Taking baby steps, we slipped and slid down the side of the mountain. About halfway down, Joseph was able to find some sticks that he fashioned into walking sticks, so the second half of the trek was much easier than the first.

On the way down, we met up with another couple from Maryland. Joseph excitedly announced to them that we are engaged, and they congratulated us. After we parted ways, Joseph turned to me.

“It’s so much fun to tell people,” he said. “It’s like I totally forgot that we were engaged, but then, telling other people gets me so excited again.” 

By the time we reached the bottom of the mountain, we were both starving. We grabbed our portable grill from the car and sat at a nearby picnic table, where we made chicken melt sandwiches. It was a satisfying meal after such a strenuous hike.

We then headed into town, where we bought lattes and walked main street. Joseph bought me a snow globe to commemorate our experience, and I bought a sticker for our scrapbook. We listened to a live band playing and strolled along the sidewalks painted with the word “love” in rainbow letters in multiple languages. 

By the time we had finished exploring, it was already three in the afternoon. We decided to head to Red Rock Canyon and save Boulder, our original next stop, until we headed back north. We drove, listening to music, both exhausted after the long day we had already experienced. 

I don’t remember what Joseph said. I know my feelings were a bit hurt when he said it, but that the comment was so inconsequential, I brushed it aside nearly instantly. I let it go, but he didn’t.

The next thing I knew, Joseph was broken down beside me, upset because he felt he kept hurting me on this trip. 

“Is it going to be like this for the rest of our lives,” he asked me. “Am I just going to keep hurting you? And what if I become someone that you don’t like – what are we going to do then? Is this really what you want?”

I was stunned. I didn’t know how to prove to this man any more than I already had how much I love him. He expressed that he was still feeling rejected; he still felt like there was something off between us, even though I had done everything I could think of in the last few days, and for all of our relationship, to make him feel loved. 

We parked at Red Rock Canyon, both a wreck, our tired eyes staring out of the windshield, not even seeing the landscape before us.

“I just don’t understand,” I said. “I don’t know what changed. We just got engaged, and we are on this trip that we have both dreamed of, and you just seem so unhappy.” I looked to him, my eyes posing the question that neither of us wanted to actually speak into existence: Do you even want to be engaged to me?

Joseph’s proposal – Photo creds go to Jon Mauler. If you want to see more of his amazing photography, visit https://www.jonmauler.com/

“Alright, let’s do what we did the other day,” Joseph said after what felt like minutes of silence. “Let’s get out of the car and try to step out of this situation, and then maybe we will be able to see more clearly what’s going on.” We exited the car. Joseph grabbed cereal for a snack while I walked across the parking lot to the restrooms. 

I am so glad I walked away. I needed a few moments alone to think. I sat for a moment, took a few deep breaths, and tried to clear my mind. Why wasn’t Joseph happy? Was it me? Was it something I did? Did he not want to be engaged? He didn’t seem to be excited to be engaged, which just baffled me because from almost the very beginning of our relationship, we have both been dreaming of this moment. 

And then it hit me. Just a week ago, sitting alone at home, just days after Joseph and I had gotten engaged, I remember not feeling so well either. I didn’t understand it at the time. My mother would ask me why I seemed upset, why I wasn’t more thrilled to share all the details of the proposal, why I didn’t seem like myself at all. And the answer I didn’t want to admit was because I was upset, because the proposal was something I didn’t want to talk about, and because I no longer felt like myself. 

I was thrilled to be engaged, but once the excitement of the proposal had gone away, it hit me just how big of a decision I had made. Before the proposal, Joseph and I had talked extensively about our future, engagement, marriage, kids…just about everything. We even read through a book, “101 Questions to Ask Before You Get Engaged,” and not even one red flag had appeared as we worked through it. I knew the proposal was coming, and up until the day of, I had always said that I was absolutely positive that it was what I wanted. And it is still exactly what I want.

Photo creds: Jon Mauler (Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jonmauler/)

But when Joseph bent down on one knee, I had the length of two seconds to answer him. Of course, it was like a reflex – how could I not marry this man who had changed my entire life for the better? But after a few days, when the excitement wore off, I started to realize everything I was giving up. I knew it wasn’t a mistake, but I had to grieve for the life that I thought I was going to have for the first 21 years of my life, before I met Joseph. I would never become a travel writer, adventuring solo around the world and sharing my journey through my craft. I would never live the single life in an apartment in New York City, working as a waitress and trying to “make it big” like everyone else there. I was now looking at a very different future, one that I very much wanted, but that was entirely different from what I had imagined for most of my life.

When I exited the bathroom, I sat on the back of the car with Joseph by my side, eating my bowl of cereal, still contemplating my latest realization.

“I think I know what’s wrong,” I said.

“You do,” he asked.

“Yes, because what you’re going through right now, I went through last week,” I said, “And I just didn’t tell you about it.” Joseph stared at me. “If I’m wrong,” I continued, “it might be really bad. But if I’m right, it could really help us.”

“What is it,” Joseph asked. I gestured to his bowl my spoon. 

“Eat your cereal first,” I said. Joseph laughed. 

“That sounds good,” he said. We finished our snack, and then we started our hike up the barren red path winding through the cacti and underbrush. 

I told him everything I had thought about in the bathroom. I told him I had realized that the reason we couldn’t figure out why anything was wrong may just be what was wrong: We couldn’t understand why we were unhappy right after we got engaged, but maybe it was because we got engaged. That’s not to say that we both aren’t so incredibly happy to be engaged, that we would ever change our minds and not choose to spend the rest of our lives with one another. However, we just went through a huge life change and we need time to adjust and grieve for what we gave up. We are no longer our own person; we just agreed to soon become one flesh in holy matrimony.

“Tyler, I think that might be it,” Joseph said. “And I think it’s also that I just don’t feel like we’re engaged. We made this huge decision, and then nothing really changed. I mean, you’re not even wearing your ring!” My ring is currently being resized at Zales in Maryland. No longer wanting to have a bare finger, I am wearing a cheap Aeropostale ring that’s turning my finger green. 

“So, it’s normal to feel this way,” Joseph asked.

“I think so,” I said. “It’s a huge decision. I had these feelings before, but I don’t anymore, because I know whatever other future I could have had, it doesn’t even compare to the future I am going to have with you. I want to marry you. So, there were three things that helped me. One, I admitted what I was feeling. Then, I had a sit down conversation with myself, where I actually thought through what would have happened if I had said, ‘no.’ And I didn’t get far into that conversation before I started crying because it was terrible. And then, I think the last thing that you have to do to deal with a big life change is to start moving with it. I think big life changes are always intimidating until you start living it out, and then you realize it’s not so bad. I think right now we are intimidated by being engaged, but if we start actually planning the wedding, doing pre-marriage counseling, looking for places to live, I think we will realize that it’s actually something we can handle.”

Joseph took this in, and it was clear that his spirits were much more lifted than before. There was the old spring in his step that I had been missing this entire trip. 

“I am so glad we’re talking about this,” he said. “This is what actually makes me feel confident in our relationship. I feel so validated and seen by you. I remember seeing guys get cold feet right before their weddings, and I didn’t understand why, and I didn’t think that I would be that. But I think that’s what’s happening. And I don’t want that to happen anymore.” He paused. “So, I guess I am going to have that sit-down conversation with myself.” I took a nervous, deep breath and nodded. 

“I think you have to,” I said. 

“I love you,” Joseph told me.

“I love you, too.”

The sun began to set, bathing the canyons in red light. We hurried back to our car in the dark and made dinner on a nearby rock. It was late by the time we got on the road, headed to a Walmart parking lot to sleep. To our dismay, when we arrived, we saw a sign that said “No overnight parking.” Physically and emotionally exhausted, we drove another half hour to a Bass Pro Shop parking lot, where we emptied the back seat for me to sleep and set up Joseph’s hammock outside.

Alone in the car, I am both an emotional wreck and the most calm I have been in days. I am confident in our relationship, but there is, of course, that sliver of doubt that wonders if Joseph’s conversation with himself won’t go as I mine went with me. There’s that little bit of me that worries we won’t be climbing any more mountains together in the future. I am worried about losing both my fiancé and my best friend. 

But the thing is, I know this has been hanging over us the whole trip, and now it’s finally being laid to rest. From here on, we are once again on the same page of our story.

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