I came here when I was twenty something by myself to see Mesa Verde. I had amazing memories of a family trip and my dad being his best historically obsessed self. Back then, the Park Rangers let you climb all through the ruins. It was as if I was thrust back in time. When I went as a young adult, the ruins were carefully guarded as I’m sure they had discovered not everyone respected such an impressive piece of history as my dad did and taught us to do. I felt absolutely safe even though I was a young woman traveling alone. It’s important to know I never felt safe, ever, but I did here.
My besty from college, Mel, moved here June 2016 and I’ve been visiting as often as I can. It’s an eight hour road trip so it needs to be planned but I’m always happy when I make the time.
Trips took on a new importance when Mel was diagnosed with Stage 2 breast cancer. She was hoping surgery could wait until the school term ended when I could come help. Things moved faster than expected and she had a bilateral mastectomy in April. I wanted to be there but was glad her father and his girlfriend could stay with her. What amazed me was the public outpouring of support and love. I didn’t need to worry about people caring for her at all. Her coworkers organized meal preparation and delivery for herself, her dad, and his girlfriend for several weeks so no one needed to buy or cook any meals. She has visitors almost every day and a few friends who rotate taking her to her chemo appointments. Even during this trip, I’ve talked with three different people who stopped by in the two days I’ve been here.
This is normal here. Like I said, there’s all the good juju here. There’s just something about this place, as if it’s where all the good spirit magic come together in giant ley lines.