100,000 miles

When the truck hit 100,000 miles on the odometer, we had just passed Eagle bombing down eastbound I-70 on our way to Avalanche Ranch. We had been spending a lazy morning together at home, when he suddenly declared that we should do something fun that day. Within 45 minutes he’d booked a cabin at the hot springs, packed the dog and human bags, and loaded up the truck. All I did was take a shower and save a few episodes of This American Life for the road trip.

The mile-marker hit by the truck just represents only one of the many impromptu getaways that Tyler has put together rapidly over the years. My dad even told me once that the truck was perfect for our “get up and go” travel style. And this trip was no different.

Tyler’s been the romantic one in this relationship. When we first started dating, I told him I didn’t want to do anything to celebrate Valentine’s Day. He still insisted on taking me out on a non-Valentine’s dinner the day after. And now he’ll plan lovely trips for the two of us — sometimes over weeks, or minutes. One time we went for a hike outside of Glenwood Springs, then went to a beer dinner. While we were waiting for it to start, he disappeared and then came back with a key to a room at the Hotel Denver next door. Surprises are his strong suit, and we were headed on another one.

When we arrived at the hot springs, the place was pretty vacant — probably because most couples planned on staying there during Valentine’s Day weekend. We only saw a handful of people in the hot springs during the afternoon, and no one was out that night or in the morning. The cabin was cute and quaint with a fully equipped kitchen. He cooked lamb chops and veggies for dinner; we played cribbage; we soaked in the springs as much as we possibly could; we saw shooting stars and watched the night sky rotate; we talked about the present and future; we just spent time together and didn’t think about anything else.

I woke up early and sat at the cabin table drinking my morning coffee. Tyler slept soundly, as did Moses, while Aspen laid on my feet to keep my toes warm. The sun crept over the mountain tops, climbing in between the sunflower covered curtains. I didn’t want the trip to end, but the nagging feeling of getting back to work started to creep back into our lives. You can spontaneously escape for periods of time, but you always have to go back eventually. I woke him up, packed up the truck, took one more soak, and rolled on down the road.

Now that we’re back home, and the odometer reads 100,131 miles — I can’t help but think of all the places we’ve gone and where we will end up next. As for next weekend, we’ll be home just enjoying being together.