The Colorado Trail

When the corporate world let me go, my best friend got the same call. Two weeks later, we were standing at Waterton Canyon with packs on our backs and 485 miles of Rockies between us and Durango.

What started as a reaction to losing a job became something else entirely. Out there, with nothing on the schedule but the next mile, I found space to figure out who I was without the title. We crossed paths with strangers who became trail family overnight, swapped stories around camp stoves, and learned that the people drawn to hard, beautiful things tend to be the people worth knowing.

After ten years of calling Colorado home, I finally got to meet it on foot — every pass, every basin, every storm-soaked afternoon. The trail gave me back something I didn't know I'd been missing.