Colorado road trip: Day 16

After nearly two-and-a-half weeks, our road trip adventure has come to an end.

Our morning began at a popular rest stop parking lot in Ohio. We did a quick bodyweight workout to get our muscles stretched and moving before the long car ride we had planned. While I was getting ready, Joseph found a coffee vending machine that gave us the delicious elixir for a fraction of the price we normally pay. Armed with caffeine and a sugary breakfast, we began our trip home.

Our main objective today, besides driving home, was to pick up my engagement ring. After nearly a month, it was finally ready for pick-up. The only problem was this: The ring store closed at six o’clock, which gave us very little time to rest during our drive. We knew we could make it, but we had to skip lunch to do it. This, however, seemed like a small price to pay for finally having the symbol of our engagement back where it belonged.

The unfortunate roadblock to our success came at three o’clock. Joseph received a phone call from Stevenson University, which seemed odd to both of us because he graduated from that school in May. When Joseph answered, we discovered it was a call from the security office. 

“I just received a call from a gentleman in Pennsylvania who has found your wallet,” the security officer said. Joseph and I both looked at each other in shock, and then, as if it were even possible to find it, we began looking around the car for the misplaced item. 

“I’m not sure if you even knew it was missing,” the security officer continued. 

“No, I didn’t,” Joseph said as reality set in for both of us. We had stopped for gas in Pennsylvania…three hours ago. 

The security officer gave us the phone number of the man who found the wallet. Joseph called the number, but the man, identified as Cliff by his voicemail, did not answer. We began the drive back, hoping to receive a return call soon.

As actuality of what was happening finally set in, I began to cry. I was disappointed about the ring, of course, but I was more upset because I believed that it was my fault. Joseph had given me his wallet to fill up the car with gas while he visited the restroom. I realized that I must have left it at the pump, which meant that the added six hours of driving, the lost opportunity to pick up my ring, and the little rest and recovery we were actually going to get tonight were my fault. 

Joseph tried in vain to console me as I sobbed in the seat beside him. I could see he was close to laughing about the situation, but I could not seem to join him in his amusement. 

We received a call about 30 minutes into our drive from Cliff. He was a kind, older gentleman who lived in Pennsylvania. He said he had found the wallet on an on-ramp to the highway. Confused by this, Joseph and I both looked at each other. 

“We must have left it on top of the car,” Joseph said, which begged a new question: Which of us left it there? Did I put the wallet there while trying to purchase gas? Or did I return the wallet to Joseph, when he had been unable to find a restroom, and then he put it on the car while he finished pumping the gas? 

After we told Cliff how far away we were, he told us it did not make much sense for us to drive all that way. 

“I will just mail it to you tomorrow,” he said. A spark of hope ignited in both of our hearts. We thanked him profusely, and as Joseph gave Cliff his address, he drove the car onto an exit to turn it back in the direction of Zales.

We lost an hour of driving, but we were both now in happier spirits. Not knowing who left the wallet was the best situation because both of us have a tendency to be angry at ourselves but almost never at the other person. We could not help but laugh and shake our heads at the irony of losing his wallet on the last day of our trip.

We arrived at Zales with thirty minutes to spare. At last, my ring was returned to where it belonged. I did not realize how much I had missed it until I had it back. It seems so simple, so insignificant, but it honestly feels like the last part that was missing inside of me has fallen back into place. This ring is a reminder and a symbol of the promise I have made. It brings me joy every time I look at it. 

Our beautiful engagement pictures were taken by the very talented Jon Mauler. To see more of his incredible work, visit his website: https://www.jonmauler.com/

The rest of the ride home was uneventful. We sipped on lattes even though it was far too late to drink espresso; at our level of exhaustion, nothing was going to keep us awake tonight. We listened to music and savored our last few moments together before life became normal once again.

“What should be our final song,” Joseph asked me minutes before arriving home. Music was one of the first things we ever connected on, and it has remained a core part of our relationship. We have a theme song for nearly every moment spent together. 

“You choose,” I told him. I trust his taste in music as much I trust him with my future.

A moment later, he had turned on the song Colorado by CHAPPY. As I knew it would be, this song was the perfect choice. We listened together, thinking back over all of our memories: The mountain hikes; strolling main streets with coffee in hand; our fights and our moments of bliss; the long drives; camping under the stars; exploring the wilderness outside and within ourselves, and finding it was much less intimidating than we thought; and our perfect moment beneath the fireworks, a celebration and a resolution to an unforgettable journey.

Our travels were filled with twists and turns. It had metaphorical and physical mountains we had to climb and conquer, which lead to views and resolutions too incredible to describe. When we began this trip, I thought it was just going to be a celebration of our engagement. I did not realize that we were both looking for something when we embarked on this adventure. 

The song ended with the sentiment, “I am unfinished. Yes, I am not done. Still, it’s up here in the mountains, I defined my home.” As the final chord struck, Joseph turned to me. 

“And it’s you,” he said. “You are my home.” I smiled as we pulled onto the road leading to my house. 

“You are my home and my adventure all at once,” I told him. 

This chapter of my story has ended. I cannot wait to write the next one with him.

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Colorado road trip: Day eight

I woke up to the car door opening, which, under normal circumstances, would be alarming, but I knew instinctively who was entering. Joseph laid down in the backseat beside me and held me close to him.

“Tyler,” Joseph called quietly. I opened my eyes and looked up at him, waiting. 

“I had the conversation with myself,” he said, “and I’ve had it many, many times before. I can’t imagine doing life without you. I can’t imagine losing you.”

Yesterday’s conversation was rough, but I wouldn’t trade it for how I feel in our relationship now. Everyone gets “cold feet” after a big life decision, and getting engaged is one of the biggest decisions either of us have ever made. Yesterday’s conversation was the culmination of a long trip with little sleep and the doubts creeping in that everyone has but no one ever talks about. Now on the other side of that conversation, I feel that our relationship is even stronger than before. Our relationship is so much better because we were willing to be transparent with how we felt and to share our doubts and fears with one another. From this point on, we can grow together. 

Relationships are hard. I believe the key to making them just a bit easier is open communication. Yesterday’s conversation is actually one of the reasons why I am so confident in my relationship with Joseph and in our future together. We talk about everything. We are always honest with one another, and our communication is always focused on solving the problem and communicating with transparency and kindness, not in winning the argument. I know yesterday was not the last time we are going to have a tough conversation, but I am confident that, when future struggles arise, we are going to work through them together and our relationship will only become stronger. 

Super big thank you again to Jon Mauler for taking our engagement pictures! Look at more of his incredible work on his website, https://www.jonmauler.com/

We packed up the car and drove to a nearby Walmart to get ready. Just after exiting the car, we were greeted by a small mastiff puppy. Her owner ran up behind her, apologizing, but Joseph and I were much too involved in puppy cuddles to be bothered.

“What’s her name,” Joseph asked.

“Athena,” her owner said. “She’s six weeks old. She’s normally really shy around people, but they say dogs can tell who good people are, and she seems to like you two a lot.”

“Oh, well, we like her, too,” Joseph said, smiling. 

This, to me, felt like nothing but further confirmation in the resolution of our earlier relationship troubles. Two weeks ago, when we had been on a day trip, Joseph wanted to come up with adventure nicknames for us. He chose Raven, because he likes the poem “The Raven” by Edgar Allen Poe, and because he is RAVENous for adventure. Based on this, I chose Athena, because in the poem “The Raven” (which I also love), the raven lands on the bust of Pallas, a reference to Pallas Athena, the Greek goddess of wisdom. At first, I thought it sounded a bit conceited of me, but Athena was always my favorite of the Greek gods, and while Joseph is the one who is pushing us to try new things and go on new adventures, I feel like I am more often the voice of wisdom and calm that brings practicality to the journey. 

Athena, the puppy, ran to us, which confirmed to me that the energy between us was once again healed. Her name was just too perfect of a coincidence. While getting in some much needed puppy cuddle time, I exhaled my last little bit of unease from the previous days of this trip. Dogs really are the best source therapy. 

While I got ready in the Walmart bathroom, Joseph cleaned the car. We bought a few essentials, including bananas for breakfast, and then we were on our way. 

Our first stop was Garden of the Gods. The view did not disappoint. Instead of plunging into the ground, the canyons stood tall above us, towering with such majesty it was as if they belonged on Mount Olympus. My only complaints were that the heat was unbearable – it felt as if we were trying to breathe in an oven – and the trails were crowded with people. Joseph and I hurried through the main loop and then used a side trail to walk back to our car. I didn’t mind that so many people wanted to see the canyons, just as we did. It’s just that the magic of nature is somewhat diluted when they are surrounded by concrete paths and people taking photographs. 

As we walked back to our car, Joseph, who was in just as high of spirits as me, put his arm around my waist.

“I love you so much,” he said. “You are so inexpensive to me.” A pause followed this statement.

“Thanks,” I said sarcastically. He caught my tone and quickly realized his mistake. 

“Priceless,” he exclaimed. “I meant priceless!” 

It feels good for us to be back to normal. 

We tried to go to the visitors’ center, but the line was much too long and we were in a bit of a time crunch, so we headed straight to Bishop’s Castle instead. I had a fitness class scheduled over Zoom in just under two hours. As we drove along the mountain road, our phones lost signal, but we were hoping that we would be able to connect to wifi at the castle. To our dismay, when we arrived, we found the service was no better than before and the castle did not offer wifi. At this point, it had been about 45 minutes since we had service, and there was just about that much time until my class. We sped back down the mountain road, frustratedly backtracking on our road trip, until we found service just a few minutes before my class was about to start. Joseph drove the car onto a dirt side road, and I set up my laptop on the back of his car. It was an unconventional setting for a fitness class, but I am sure my students enjoyed the mountains in the background.

After the class, we ate a very late lunch and then drove back to Bishop Castle. As much as we hated having to drive the same route twice, the attraction was worth it.

Bishop Castle was constructed by one man, Jim Bishop, who has been building and adding to it for nearly 60 years. It’s the ultimate testament to perseverance. Joseph and I stood at the bottom, looking up at the monumental structure before us. The large stones adorned with ornate iron work gave the impression of elegance and sophistication. Upon entering the castle, we realized this was somewhat of a facade. The structure was amazing for two reasons, the first being that it was built by one man, and the second, that it did not completely collapse beneath us. We walked up the narrow stone steps to the towers built entirely by iron that shook  and swayed in the breeze. Our legs visibly shaking, we climbed to the tallest point and looked out at the mountains surrounding us. The view was incredible, but it was impossible to relax and enjoy it when we feared at any second we would be falling to our deaths. 

The castle was filled with different corridors leading to nausea-inducing spiral staircases, so it took us nearly an hour to explore. All the while, we were filled with nervous laughter and excitement. 

“The only thing to fear is fear itself,” Joseph called as we carefully stepped down iron steps that led to a stone platform without any railings. 

“I’m going to call B.S. on that one,” another visitor yelled out. “I think climbing tall, unstable towers like this are on the list of things to be afraid of.”

After Bishop castle, we began the three hour drive to Boulder, our last stop before our trip finale in Denver. When we arrived at our planned campsite, we were dismayed to see a sign that prohibited parking from dusk to dawn. To bolster our spirits, we each ate a Rice Krispies treat and took a quick stroll in the park to stretch our legs. Then, we got back on the road and drove another thirty minutes to a steep, mountain lane that led us to a lonely campsite in the forest. I set up the tent as Joseph made us grilled cheese sandwiches. We ate in the dark, sitting on the tarp in front of our tent, satisfied and relaxed.

I would be willing to experience a thousand days like yesterday to have just one day like today. It’s always so discouraging to have struggles in a relationship, but the growth we experience from those difficulties make all the other times spent together so much better. Every story has a setback; that’s what makes the comeback so sweet. As for Joseph’s and my journey…well, it’s still one of my favorite stories to tell.  

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Colorado road trip: Day seven

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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