Wednesday, September 5, 2012

How I moved to Colorado, sight unseen.

While in Norway I came to the conclusion that I wouldn't be able to move back to Washington.
The United States just has far too many delicious pockets to live in.

And well, I had this subtle fear that if I moved back I would:
Move to Seattle. Finish school. Marry a bearded native Washingtonian.
 Make beautiful hippy babies. Live in a townhouse.
Never travel again.

Not that this would have been a terrible plan,
 but settling down can easily happen ANYWHERE ELSE IN THE WORLD. 

 What kind of story do I want live to?
I'm 23, solo, and adventure hungry. 
So moving on it had to be.

It was between Bozeman and Boulder.
College and Culinary school.

I chose Colorado.
Sight unseen. For several reasons.
But, really, for the mountains.

I rolled into Boulder in mid-July after leaving the Knudson 6 in South Dakota.
I had one contact in the entire state, from my dear friend Jonathan Schmidt.

Heidi welcomed me in to her home around 10PM and we made a mad dash for ice-cream.
We drove up Flagstaff to consume the view and our frozen treats.

I made a good choice.

The following Sunday. 
I came back from church hunting discouraged and exhausted.
Why does looking for fellowship feel so much like an awkward first date?

Heidi invited me to join her that evening for worship service.

I walked in to:
Entire the Worship Circle. Rainbow filtered sunlight. Dancing. Mandolin. Beard. Plaid. 
Baby wearing. Knitting. Harmonica. Bare feet. Jesus. Truth. Fellowship. 

It felt like coming home.

Followed by frozen yogurt and mountain sunset. 

Also, there was folk dancing.
With this guy.

Doesn't he look like a little mountain gnome?
At the end, he made us dance around a candle singing "Simple Gifts"

Oh, little wild gnome man. You are a silly treasure.

Farmer's Market. Tea house. Small group.
So much convincing me to stay!

So I got a P.O. BOX

The next Sunday we hiked to Lake Isabelle in the Indian Peaks wilderness.

Colorado has freak thunderstorms nearly every afternoon.
We got caught in one. It made the ground smell sweet and fresh.

Heidi packed along a delicious Argentinian picnic for lunch.

Then, as usual, the black glacier waters called to us.
So, naturally, we tore off our muddy clothes and leapt in.

The water so cold it cuts down into your bones and let's the wild seep into your marrow.

I knew Heidi was a kindred spirit. 
She is a delight.

The morning I left, I signed a lease for a sweet little place with a view of the wide Colorado sky.
Following God is never, ever boring. 

"There are far far better things ahead than any we leave behind."
- C.S. Lewis

So, apparently, I live in Colorado, now?
Adventure on!

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