Leaving Torrey, I felt that familiar mix of satisfaction and anticipation — the joy of finally seeing Capitol Reef, and the quiet excitement of knowing the next chapter was waiting for me on the road ahead. My destination was Nebraska, where I’d promised to help Natasha finish Brenna’s graduation scrapbook. But first, I had a stretch of travel that would take me through some of the most beautiful — and most stressful — miles of interstate in the country.
My first stop after Torrey was Rifle Gap State Park in Rifle, Colorado. The campground was peaceful, scenic, and utterly disconnected from the world.
And I mean disconnected:
- No cell signal
- No Wi‑Fi
- No cloud access
- No YouTube to fall asleep to
- No texting friends
- No photo editing because the originals were in the cloud
It was beautiful… and also a reminder of how much my “back‑to‑nature” lifestyle still depends on technology. I enjoyed the quiet, but one night was enough.
The next morning, I headed east toward Fort Collins, and soon entered one of my favorite stretches of interstate anywhere in the country: Glenwood Canyon.
A few facts to ground what I’ve always felt:
- Glenwood Canyon is one of the deepest canyons on the Colorado River, carved over millions of years.
- It sits between Eagle and Garfield Counties, just east of Glenwood Springs.
- The canyon walls rise up to 1,300 feet above the river.
- The 12‑mile stretch of I‑70 through the canyon was the last segment of the entire interstate system to be completed, opening in 1992 after decades of engineering debate.
- The westbound lanes are elevated on viaducts to protect the canyon floor, while the eastbound lanes run closer to the river.
- A paved bike and pedestrian path runs the length of the canyon beside the river.
It is, without exaggeration, one of the most beautiful drives in America.
As I drove through, the lower deciduous trees were in their brightest spring greens, while the upper elevations were still waiting for warmer weather. The contrast — fresh green below, bare branches above — made the canyon feel layered and alive.
I’ve always loved this drive, but this time felt special. I hadn’t traveled this way in quite a while, and seeing it again reminded me why Glenwood Canyon is a place I never tire of.
Beauty quickly gave way to stress as I climbed from Eagle toward Vail Pass. Colorado in late April does not care about your plans.
Snowflakes the size of quarters — then baseballs — began to fall. They stuck instantly. Trucks barreled past me, splattering slush across my windshield and shaking my trailer with every gust.
By the time I reached Frisco, my hands were cramped from gripping the wheel. I pulled off to catch my breath — and that’s when I saw it.
I had two tails.
The two bungee cords that held my reclining lounge chair and stand chair to the back of the trailer were still attached at the top… but dangling freely at the bottom.
The chairs were gone.
I had secured them properly. I know I had. But gravity, wind, snow, and the pounding of passing trucks had stretched those bungees past their limit. Somewhere between Utah and the top of Vail Pass, my chairs had taken flight.
I stood there in the slush, staring at the empty rack, and thought:
Well… that’s one way to lighten the load.
Two chairs and two bungee cords now sit on my “replace later” list.
I pulled into Fort Collins on Sunday afternoon and settled in with Genevieve, Cindy’s mom — a woman who has been like a second mother to me since high school. Genevieve and her late husband, Don, were a huge part of why I moved west in the first place. Being with her always feels like coming home.
She had called earlier in the week asking if I could arrive a little early. She had a back procedure scheduled and needed someone to drive her to the hospital and bring her home afterward. Of course I said yes.
Her procedure went well, and my job for the next couple of days was to keep her from doing all the things she thought she could do. She’s independent, stubborn (she describes this as tenacious) and capable — which means she’s also the kind of person who needs a watchdog after surgery.
While I was in Fort Collins, I started thinking about my trailer. I had a lot of miles ahead of me, and I knew it had been a while since its last full maintenance check.
A year and a half, to be exact.
There was a Camping World nearby, so I made an appointment. When I picked up the trailer at the end of the week, the bill was $3,000.
Brakes.
Air conditioning maintenance.
Roof repair.
A handful of other things that don’t matter until they matter a lot.
That’s what happens when you let things go too long.
Lesson learned.
I’ll be checking things more frequently from now on.
With Genevieve recovering, my trailer freshly serviced, and my chairs somewhere in the mountains of Colorado, it was time to head toward Nebraska.
I didn’t know it yet, but the month ahead would be one of the wildest, busiest, most emotionally packed stretches of my entire year. Stay tuned for the next story — it is a wild one!