good morning loves. i am sitting in our beautiful new home with a cup of coffee, enjoying the sun that is streaming through the windows. when i woke up this morning it was overcast. i rushed to our bedroom window and could see rugged black mountains in the distance. it didn't take long for the sky to change and now, looking through our sliding glass doors that lead to the patio, i can see perfect little houses stretching out into downtown denver, and denver stretching into the Rockies. everything is clean and pristine white, blue and green.
i can't believe we are finally here. we arrived this morning, around two o'clock mountain time. it was too dark to really see the beauty that surrounds us. now that i can see all of it sprawled in front of me, it makes the hellacious drive out here so worth it.
we left bolivar on friday afternoon around one o'clock eastern time. we drove until we reached a small town in western ohio, where we decided to grab a bite to eat at a cute little mexican restaurant called The Grasshopper. before we could even start mowing down on our enchilada platter, the sky turned completely black. as all of the light quickly faded from the sky, we were ushered into the basement of the restaurant. it was then that we learned there was a tornado ripping through a nearby county. everyone sipped on margaritas and landsharks as we waited for the storm to pass. twenty minutes later we were allowed back upstairs. when we got back to our table, the most brilliant sunset was melting over the barns and silos, turning from red to orange to gold to the most brilliant turquoise before disappearing into the unending plains. we were mystified by how fast the storms could develop and the striking horizons they leave behind. this would be a sight we'd become accustomed to on the long journey to colorado.
after all of the excitement at dinner, dan and i felt refreshed and planned on driving straight to colorado. we'd drive fifteen hours, maybe stop at a rest area and catch two hours of light sleep, drive the last four hours and go into comas as soon as we got to the house. i had a touch-and-go migraine since the border of pennsylvania and ohio, but i was trying to man up and go along with this plan to marathon it. just as i was about to be completely okay with driving straight through (and slipping into an acetaminophen-induced slumber), dan startled me awake with a concerned "oh my god." i sleepily asked him what he was oh my godding about. he told me i was going to freak out. he was right. he was oh my godding because there was a spider in the car that quickly crawled into an undisclosed location. you ladies can guess what happened next. i freaked and made him pull over. the interstate was teeming with bustling semis, but i didn't care. i made it clear that we were not going to continue until that spider was found and flicked out of the car. as i paced nervously behind the car massaging my throbbing temples, dan thoroughly investigated the front of the car with the halogen flashlight his parents got us. finally, he batted at the PASSENGER SIDE DOOR and said we were clear. it took him a minute of desperate convincing and swearing on my life to get me back into the car. all of the nerves that the wild ohio sunset had calmed after the storm had returned and we decided to find a room for the night. after twenty minutes of calling every super 8 and comfort inn listed in the GPS, we finally found a good rate and turned in for some meerkat manor and sleepy time.
check out came too soon and the sun was already blazing high in the sky when we started back on our journey. one minor detail i left out thus far: dan's car does not have air conditioning. as we continued on through indiana and into iowa, that midwestern heat got more and more cruel. there was no escaping the sun or the smell of shit baking in the plains. we got as far as council bluffs, iowa and decided to stop off at a Sonic and, if you guys have never had Sonic, trust me, you aren't missing anything. i was in a foul, fiery mood and covered with heat rash and sweaty, coagulated sunscreen. i couldn't stop dropping f-bombs and throwing my middle fingers around. at this point, it felt like we would never get to colorado. i thought we would dry up and die before we even reached nebraska. fortunately, the BP by Sonic had jumbo jugs of water, pull n peel Twizzlers and a large variety of sudoku books and crossword puzzles. that's all it took to improve my outlook on the situation. soon we were in nebraska and, thanks to my fill-it-in entertainment, it flew by fast. i had already completed nearly twenty puzzles when, again, the sky turned black. a few seconds later we were deluged with rain and, a few seconds after that, unusually large hail. all of these components together spell one thing: tornado. we closely followed military vehicles and semis hauling giant turbine blades to avoid hydroplaning. some cars were taking cover beneath underpasses, and i started to get more and more nervous. we anxiously eyed the horizons. nebraska is completely flat, conducive to split-second twister formation, and the sky is endless. to me, it felt like every cloud was about to touch down and start blasting through the fields. luckily, the storm passed as fast as it formed, leaving brilliant rainbows in every direction. again, the scariest sky morphed into breathtaking serenity. i had the taste of newsprint in my mouth from holding my puzzle book to my face in fear for those fast minutes we were shrouded by clouds and hail, but the golden rainbow horizon completely refreshed me. soon it was night, and not long after the stars came out we crossed the colorado border.
missing an elk by four feet and swerving for a lazy mass of tumbleweed were the last dramatic moments of the ride. the rest was peaceful anticipation. it was so dark that we could only see the road ahead of us, lights from far off towns and sporadic bolts of thick, yellow lightning that stretched from the clouds to the ground. those quick strikes allowed me to see split seconds of the changing scenery. what was once sprawling fields and farmlands had turned to rolling rocks and ridges. my heart skipped a beat with every sneak peek.
finally, the lights of denver washed over the car. still, it was too dark to see those majestic mountains in the distance, but the sight was still alluring and comforting. as the light spread farther over our surroundings, dan commented on how new everything was. i took that statement in various contexts. everything really is new here. this developing city, snuggled in the then invisible Rockies, is fresh and clean, futuristic and comfortable. the perfect place for a new beginning. a handful of two dollar tolls later, we arrived at our house. dad was anxiously awaiting our arrival and warmly welcomed us. as soon as we stepped into the house, we slipped simultaneous sounds of awe. the ceilings loom thirty feet above us, the windows frame downtown denver, the lights cast a clean sheen across the hardwood floors and the nook-and-cranny architecture fills the rooms with ambient echoes. dad had music playing from his studio in the loft and it filled every corner of the house so perfectly. great style, great acoustics, great view. it is completely perfect in every way.
we have an aerobed in a room upstairs that looks out into downtown denver and rugged mountains. i caught a few hours of sleep, but i am way too excited to not be awake. so, i have been sitting here in this sunny house, looking out at people biking, jogging and walking the path that winds through our neighborhood into the city, watching baby bunnies scamper across our patio. we're doing good, ladies. real good.
i can't wait until you all come see it for yourselves.
loves and kisses from colorado.
-britt
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