Did I mention I don't like heights?

Standing on top of the world’s highest suspension bridge, I suddenly realized I was scared of heights. At 1,053 feet above the Royal Gorge, I could see the Arkansas river flowing under me through the cracks in the wood planks. The old boards creaked a little too much for my liking, and I began picturing the scene from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom where Thuggee cult members fall to their deaths after Dr. Jones compromises the structural integrity of the bridge.

Your all probably wondering how I got into this situation. Tyler and I were sitting at Gohan-Ya, which is the Asian noodle place by our house, and decided we should get out of town for our weekend. After lunch, I packed and he found a place for us to visit. We took off for Cañon City soon after.

When we arrived, we had dinner at small french restaurant called Le Petit Chablis. It was in an old house, and the menu was written on a chalkboard because it changed everyday. The Chef Daniel Petit (who was from Chablis) came out and explained the menu to us. We had a wonderful meal, and were ready to conquer any adventures awaiting us the next day.

Or so I thought.

In the morning we drove to the Royal Gorge Bridge and Park to check out the scenic wonder. After debating the price of admission, we paid the old park ranger and went on in. It was shortly after this that I decided I didn’t want to walk any further across the bridge, and insisted Tyler go on without me.

At first he thought I was joking, probably because it was April Fool’s Day and all — but then he saw the look of panic spreading across my face.

“Come on, you’ll be a stronger person for doing this,” he said.

Like a good husband, he held my hand the whole time we were on the bridge — even though my palm was as sweaty as a seventh grader on a first date.

After letting my heart rate return to normal, we took the incline railway to the bottom of the gorge to look up at the bridge. I appreciated this view a lot more, probably because I had time to check things out without an overwhelming knot in my stomach.

But more importantly, we had an Amish sighting! There were three families altogether, and Tyler and I wondered how they got there. We didn’t pass any horse and buggies on the way to the park, or see any in the parking lot.

Upon further investigation, I found that the Amish do travel by bus, train or vans driven by others to go on vacation. They use cars, but do not own them, because that would disrupt their social structure. Since only wealthy individuals could afford a car, it would bring inequality to their community.

We then left the park, and meandered our way back up to Vail, stopping in Salida for lunch. We found an awesome pizza place and brewery called Amicas. We will definitely be stopping there again to fill up our growlers and grab some grub.