Now that Dakota was back to normal, we were ready for a planned adventure, as opposed to the emergency vet visit kind of adventure.
I followed my boyfriend’s truck down dusty back roads, as I was now getting very used to doing, until we got to a spectacular spot surrounded by red rock mountains and orange sand dunes. We were ready to attempt a desert backpacking trip.
He had the whole thing planned, which was such a nice break from doing all the planning myself. We left the van where it wouldn’t get stuck and then piled into his truck to venture into the sandy landscape. He drove us to a spot where we tucked the truck away and began our hike.
We hiked up and over endless rocks, never quite on a trail but yet he knew where we were going. The dogs explored and climbed and wrestled every chance they got. Eventually, he pointed to the top of the next mesa. “That’s where we’re camping,” he said.
The sun was setting quickly and no matter how much we hiked it seemed like that point was still so far away. We were racing against the sun.
Finally, we made it.
He happily obliged to share in my tradition of sitting down for a drink before setting up camp, and we watched as the sun set on one side of the desert and the moon rose on the other.
I love backpacking alone, but I had forgotten just how wonderful it was to have someone to share the workload with. We had everything done in half the time and before we knew it, we were enjoying a freeze-dried dinner and watching the stars come out. Off in the distance, fireworks were being set off, and I joked about how he had really pulled off all the stops for this date.
The morning started off cold, as desert mornings often do. We let the world warm up before venturing around camp a bit. Dakota was content settling into her backpacking routine of sunbathing and sleeping the morning away, while Rico was ready for adventure. The two of them get along great, but they certainly function at different speeds.
We spent all morning hanging around at camp with neither of us in a rush to head back. Eventually, it was time to start the return trip or we would be racing against darkness again. Our hike was a loop with an undetermined amount of miles ahead of us still.
On the journey back, we met a group of people on ATVs. We started chatting and they asked where we were from, which is always a question I’m not sure how to answer.
“I live on the road, actually,” I said.
“Oh, you’re a trucker?” the woman replied.
My boyfriend stifled a laugh. It became our well-worn joke for the next few hours as we trudged across the desert.
The problem with desert backpacking is that there aren’t any water sources to refill water from. When you and your giant dog are both hiking, it’s difficult to carry enough water for both of you. Dakota and I both drink a lot of water, and now we were almost out.
We could see the van as a speck off in the distance, but we still had a long way to go.
As we were getting closer, the landscape changed from sandstone to sand dunes. Walking became more difficult and our pace slowed. It was hot now and we were all just ready to be done. Except for maybe Rico.
After our desert backpacking trip, we journeyed back towards Gunnison. I really liked this guy and wanted to give this relationship a fighting chance, which meant I needed to stick around for a bit.
I parked Forrest in his driveway and settled into houselife. He worked during the day, so I spent that time exploring the trails in his backyard and figuring out my way around town. I enjoyed the perks of not paying for laundry in quarters and having a daily shower in exchange for letting his dog tag along on mine and Dakota’s daily adventures.
It was almost Halloween now and the snow was settling in nicely in the mountains. A good, early-season storm was coming and we decided to take advantage of it while I had a day off work.
When I bought my ski pass, I wasn’t dating anyone. There are a couple of good pass options for traveling ski bums, so I picked the one I liked best. Of course, I managed to pick the opposite one from what he gets through work, so we aren’t able to ski at the same resorts. He does get a few free day passes to share though so we can ski together on special occasions.
We decided to leave Forrest behind and load up his camper with our two big dogs as we ventured towards Keystone, one of the first resorts to open this season. Since his camper sits in the bed of his 4WD truck, we can take it to places that I would never dream of taking Forrest. We made our way up an icy forest road and found a tiny campsite to tuck into.
When we woke in the morning, we were greeted by several inches of new snow. The dogs chased each other around as we put on our ski gear.
I spent last ski season traveling to warmer weather so this would be my first time back on the slopes in 2 years and I was stoked.
There was only one run open this early in the season and everyone in Colorado had the same idea that day, but I didn’t care. The feeling of snow under my board again left me with a smile I couldn’t wipe off.
We returned to Gunnison and I spent the next two weeks slowing down. I stayed around the house, caught up on things I had been putting off, and gave time and space to this new relationship.
If you’ve been following along for a bit, then you know back in August my sister was diagnosed with cancer.
If you missed this, go back and read The Curse of Taos.
Her treatment plan was several weeks of radiation followed by surgery. She’s a new mom and just moved into a new house, so even without the cancer diagnosis, her life would be a bit chaotic.
My family has been taking turns visiting my sister to help out and I’m lucky enough to have a job and lifestyle that allows me the flexibility to spend a week with her. Pre-vanlife as a public school teacher, I never would have had that opportunity.
After a few weeks of being mostly settled at my boyfriend’s house, I was excited to be back on the road, even if it was just for the short trip to Denver to catch a flight. Per my 2-hour rule, I’d be making the trip over the course of a few days.
My first stop was Buena Vista, at a beautiful, free campsite that has been a reliable spot for me several times now. As I began settling in for the evening though, vanlife welcomed me back on the road in its usual ways.
Whenever I take an extended break from the van, it never seems to fail that my first day or two on the road are the hardest. Things break or seem to go wrong more than when I’m in the vanlife groove.
Gunnison had been insanely cold, with lows well below zero. I had been staying in the house and my van heater hadn’t been working well, so I turned it off and just allowed everything inside the van to freeze. Now that I was back in the van though, everything was thawing. And leaking.
Leaks were coming from my faucet as well as the copper lines under the faucet. I was doing my best to catch the dripping water in bowls of various shapes and sizes as I was scouring Google to determine whether these leaks could be fixed.
My warm welcome was completed by spilling coffee grounds all over myself, the floor, and the sink at 1:45am, but nevertheless, it was good to be back in my tiny home on the road.
We spent the next morning wandering the trails out my front door while navigating around small cacti buried under snow. Then it was off to Denver.
My faucet was the only piece of my van build that I bought from Lowes instead of Home Depot, so I pulled into the Lowes parking lot where I hoped to make a simple swap of the same faucet.
In moments like this, I’m thankful that I did my own build. I knew exactly which faucet I needed and I knew exactly how to install it since I installed it the first time around.
I got back to the van, got out the toolbox, and got ready to work. As I began pulling things apart, I realized that this wouldn’t be as straightforward as I hoped it would. Of course, I should know better than to think it would be easy! The hoses that were connected to the faucet were stuck and I couldn’t get them off, no matter how strong I willed myself to be. I tried every workaround I could think of until I finally just cut through the hoses with my dull boxcutter.
The decision to cut the hose was fine, I had plenty of hose to reach the new faucet. The only problem was that the hose pieces were attached to adapters that I needed for the new faucet too.
I went back into Lowes, now probably my fourth trip back inside, and found the aisle with the adapters.
The one I needed though was completely out of stock. Of course.
I finally located someone to ask for help, which was quite an adventure in itself. They checked the system and then advised me to go to Home Depot.
That would be a great solution except that my van was in no shape to be driving anywhere as we were mid-project.
They reassured me that it wouldn’t be a long walk.
That wasn’t the answer I wanted, so I went back to the van and put on my thinking cap. I tried everything I could to get the hoses off the old adapters so I could reuse them, but without an extra set of hands or a clamp, I couldn’t get the leverage I needed.
Finally, I decided I’d just bring the old faucet inside to see if someone stronger than me could help.
The first man I found sent me into the tool aisle in search of something I could borrow to help me, but I had no idea what I was looking for. As I was wandering around, losing hope, I found another employee. A woman.
I told her that I had been sent in search of a mystery tool and she shook her head. She said there’s a reason she’s the one over here with the tools and that guy is at the front desk because she’s the one that actually knows how to use the tools. I loved her already.
She took the faucet from me and a few minutes later she had all the parts off that I needed and she even cleaned them up for me so I’d be ready to attach them to the new faucet.
She also disposed of the old faucet so I wouldn’t have to carry it around with me in the van.
The rest of the install was as simple as I had originally hoped and soon I had a faucet without leaks again. But now it was dark and I was exhausted and I didn’t know where to spend the night.
Lowes closed in 20 minutes, so I went inside and figured it was at least worth asking. A group of ladies getting ready to close up told me I could definitely stay for the night but to just be warned that there was a halfway house nearby and that the parking lot saw a lot of foot traffic back and forth. “Just be sure to lock your doors,” they told me.
I took the chance, knowing I could always leave if I felt unsafe, and woke in the morning without any issues.
I was catching a flight that day and that meant dropping Dakota off at a boarding facility. I know I gush about this in nearly every post, but I’m extremely lucky to have such an amazing dog. She easily bounces from place to place and has no qualms about being boarded. I dropped her off and choked back tears as she happily followed a stranger into the back of the facility. One of the employees made a comment about how well-adjusted Dakota is, despite the fact that we spend every second of the day together. She did not, however, make any comments about how well-adjusted I am. My separation anxiety is certainly getting worse.
Knowing Dakota doesn’t struggle when we’re apart though definitely makes it easier when I have to leave her.
I arrived in Charlotte and was so thrilled to see my sister. A lot had happened since I had seen her last over the summer and there’s just nothing like being able to physically hug the person you’ve been worrying about.
She was already more than halfway through her radiation treatments by the time of my visit and was just starting to see the side effects, making my timing that much better.
I was able to help with my sweet little nephew, get things done around the house, and keep my sister company as we went to treatment each day. While I’d rather visit under better circumstances, getting to share that time with my sister and nephew and seeing her new house was really special.
During my visit I also was able to convince my sister to grab a happy hour drink at a local brewery, I got to visit with my cousin and aunt, and I even witnessed my nephew eating his first baby foods.
Brews and Connect4 
I love being Aunt Jenny 
Not sure about baby food
The trip went by far too fast, but I was so thankful for the time I got to spend there. And of course, I was pretty darn excited to be reunited with my sidekick when I returned to Colorado.
Denver was warm and sunny, so I opted to stay an extra couple days to enjoy the last bit of fall weather I’d see for a while. I spent time getting new snow tires for Forrest and checked out some trails near the city.
New snow tires 
Old tires riding shotgun
While in Denver, I also got my heater checked by a mechanic to get it working once and for all. After nearly two hours, they had “run the codes” and told me what they thought the problem might be. No physical labor had been done at this point and my bill was already $200. I told them I’d do the work myself and got out of there as fast as possible, hoping to avoid any extra charges at this point. I was frustrated but hopeful that I’d now be able to fix it, I just needed to get back to Gunnison where my boyfriend offered to help me do the work.
On my return trip to Gunnison, I took advantage of ski-bum vanlife and the ultimate flexibility by “stretching my legs” on the drive and getting in a few laps at Copper Mountain Ski Resort. It was so fun to visit Copper Mountain again. My first ski trip outside of Michigan was here at Copper Mountain 10 years earlier when I was a college student at Michigan State. I wonder what 19-year-old Jenny would think of my life now.
After a few sunny laps, I got back in the van to continue the drive. 20 minutes into driving, my check engine light came on. I stopped in Leadville, the closest town, and got the code read from an auto parts store. The quick diagnosis was a crankshaft position sensor, which the employee told me was probably something that I needed to get checked. Since my engine is new and still under warranty, I needed to get it to a Mercedes dealership. My closest options were Denver, which was now 2 hours away, or Santa Fe, New Mexico which was even further. So, I turned around and made my way back to Denver.
The next morning, I planned to get to the dealership as soon as they opened. I started the van, and the engine light was gone. I figured I should go anyway since I had the warranty and I didn’t need another ruined engine. I got a similar response to the one I got last time I needed work done at a dealership though, “how long will you be leaving the van with us?” They told me it might be two weeks before they could look at it, but that wasn’t the worst part. They could run the diagnostics on the engine, but if the problem turned out to be anything outside of the engine, like an exhaust issue, then it wouldn’t be covered under my warranty and I’d be out $300. After already spending $200 for some old men to talk to me about my heater, I figured luck wasn’t on my side and I just couldn’t risk another big chunk of change. Plus, Forrest had just gotten expensive new shoes.
The man at the dealership told me that if it were him, he would wait to get it checked. Since the light had already gone off, the van had determined that the error was low-priority or had already corrected itself.
As much as I was happy to be saving the $300, I was angry that I had added 4 hours of driving to my trip to get this information.
I set off once again, this time finally arriving back in Gunnison.
To move, to breathe, to fly, to float, To gain all while you give, To roam the roads of lands remote, To travel is to live.
Hans Christian Anderson
