That night, on the eve of my 30th birthday, I pulled into a parking lot at Crested Butte Ski Resort. I made my way across the street to the ski slope to find the humming engine and flashing lights of the snowcat that grooms the slopes. My boyfriend flung the door open and I climbed into my birthday chariot.
I had successfully pulled off a surprise visit to my boyfriend in Gunnison. I spent the next couple days soaking in time with the boys before it was time to trek across Colorado again.
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.
