Mid-July. Snow-capped mountains. This is my story of seeing the Rocky Mountains for the first time. My trip began in the evening. Angela is driving, while I look out the window like a child staring into a toy store window, face pressed to the glass, taking everything in. I notice the pinks and purples of the sun set. The mountains are all around me.
Backpacking was foreign to me. I honestly didn’t even know what backpacking was. I have always been an outdoors girl, a tomboy even. However, when Brian, my husband, brought the subject up, I wasn’t too sure about it. The idea of carrying everything on my back just didn’t seem appealing to me. But I decided to appease him and let him have his fun ordering all the equipment needed, packs, sleeping bags, headlamps, bed roll, tent and I think the kitchen sink might have been in there.