In October of 2020, when the world opened up *slightly* after our friend Covid took a break, our cabin fever was becoming unbearable and somehow we managed to get the hell out of dodge.

My step-mom “LA” is one of those delusional people who like to run for fun… Often, my Mom and I will accompany her to races all over California, even the ones in 114 degree weather in the desert. Mud runs, trail runs, Spartan runs, half-marathons, marathons – all the ‘thons. Seriously, who does that? I love to hike but hiking = walking… not running and I’m not being timed. All jokes aside, her ability to shut out the nonsense in the world and simply run is pretty remarkable.

Most of her adventures are outlandish and often leave my Mom in a state of anxiety. She’ll diligently check LA’s location on the Life 360 app as she bobs and weaves through trails on Mt. Tamalpais and such. One day, she decided to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro on a multiple day trek; another continent, without service. No service, means no location tracking which also means, I was on call for the duration of her trip, constantly being asked if I had a bad feeling. Which I didn’t, but her stress became my stress until LA’s safe return.

Back to October of 2020, LA decided to do another random adventure and booked herself a multiple day mountain biking/camping trek in Moab, Utah. I think the original plan was for her to fly out by herself but ultimately, my Mom and I needed an excuse to get out of the cesspool we knew as California.

We all flew to Salt Lake City and then drove to Moab. The drive was beautiful, the red rocks were something I’ve wanted to see for awhile and I couldn’t wait to explore.

We dropped LA off and were left to our own devices. We had a rental car, no hotel reservations and 3 days to figure out what to do. My Mom and I both knew where we wanted to go… so, we went to Colorado.

One of my favorite things in the world is to road trip with no real itinerary, just a general direction, not to be bound by anything, and to simply see what happens. For me, the unknown is a no-no in my regular life but when I have the travel bug, I am more than okay with “going with the flow”. (Unless it’s with my husband – he seems to take me to the scary places with the curviest roads).

Mountainous terrain, the most extraordinary colors in the trees, wildlife, hole in the wall stores and cafes – all my favorite things.

Most of my childhood was spent adventuring with my Mom and LA. But, I think this was the first time my Mom and I were able to experience new places together. Colorado was somewhere we both dream of moving to someday. The grass is always greener and we expected Colorado to have the greenest grass and we were not disappointed.

We drove and drove, stopping in Grand Junction, Telluride, Durango, and Cortez. We found funky motels and attractions along the way, dropping down into Farmington, New Mexico, then quickly leaving. NM was not our vibe.

Road trips are the most freeing experiences I’ve had. Stumbling upon tiny towns and exploring big cities; being a complete tourist, hoping people don’t notice me. In reality, no one knows me and I’ll likely never seen them again, which helps me feel like a fly on the wall in most of these places.

See the photos from my most recent road trip with my sister, here.

Still living in the town I grew up in has done nothing but make me more jaded every day. The same stoplights, the same terrible drivers, the same people, and worse, the new people from the city who are buying their second or third homes in the “cute little town near the coast”, pushing the real locals out.

It’s frustrating and hard to watch but it’s also hard to leave. These road trips allow me to live vicariously through other people, almost creating a new identity within myself. It helps me respect their towns, their way of life and ultimately, it helps me respect the town I grew up in. I have come to realize that those who play tourist in my town may be experiencing the same emotions as I do when I leave my own town to venture into new places.

It could be worse… I could have grown up in San Francisco… 🤐

Anyway, LA’s mountain biking camp trip was successful and fun! We still thinks she’s crazy but it was awesome to share our very different versions of what we experienced on our separate adventures. After picking her up, we stayed one more night in Moab, making the drive back to SLC to fly home.

After what was ALMOST a perfect trip with no hiccups, we arrived at SLC airport, easily went through TSA, got lunch, and waited to board the plane after an exhaustingly amazing trip. As the plane began boarding, we walked up to beep our boarding passes and all three of our tickets didn’t work… We had to RUN to Delta’s customer service desk only for them to tell us that our tickets were canceled and somehow didn’t notify us. And, of course, they didn’t have a flight back to SFO or OAK until the morning. We were so exhausted and couldn’t believe it.

So, guess what we did? We rented a f*cking mini-van and drove the 800 miles back home from Utah, stopping in Winnemucca, NV to sleep. I was pissed. Nonetheless, we made it home safely and I would have driven that extra 800 miles again if it meant I could experience Colorado all over again.

We only explored just a small fraction of Colorado and it was breathtaking. So, not to make the rest of Colorado feel left out, soon I will return to explore more!

Please enjoy some of the photos from this trip. It was unforgettable!