This morning I wake up at 4:22, ready for the day. I decided I'd catch up on my blog. Luckily, someone in the neighbourhood has not locked their Wi-Fi. At 5:50, I take the dogs out and have a smoke. The early morning has not turned to light and I can see my breath in white clouds against the black of night. Cold, I go inside to clean up while Baxter wakes Dan and dad. Mom makes us more Spanish coffee, grapefruit that she sliced for us, and breakfast burritos.
The goodbyes are hard. I'm 43 years old and leaving home for the first time. Dad barely gets out the words "vio con dios" and walks away. Mom, tears streaming down her face, gives me a hug and is right behind him. Julie calls and cheers me up, refocusing me and reminding me why I am doing this. Uncle AK comforts me saying mom and dad left everything the knew at one time too.
We are heading down I-70 and it's pretty cozy.
Passing under the bridge that perfectly frames the mountains, I think of dad. When he and I would head up to hike or cross country ski, he'd always let out a heartfelt wooohooo! This signifies the entrance into the Rocky Mountains.
The dogs have finally settled down, I think the doggie downers and the excitement have finally taken effect.
We pass Copper Mountain. Dan and I met at the base 14 years ago, this past November.
After getting some gas in Vail we make a bed for Lucy on the floor of the truck, she loves it.
The dogs enjoy the trip, sensing that we are all in this together, we eat, drink and ride. Where we go one, we go all!
The radio stations won't tune in so I read Merle's Door: Lessons From a Freethinking Dog, aloud. At 9:40, 14 hours after we left, we arrive at the hotel in Mesquite, Nevada.