We’ve crossed the Lost Valley Ranch cattle guard twice now on this journey – heading to the ranch and heading away from the ranch.

One was infinitely more pleasing than the other.

 

 

The stories (and there are plenty of ’em) will have to wait for a day or six, ya’ll.

Not only am I sleepy, I am also only willing to tentatively put my feet back in the waters of typing and internet and social media because re-enrty is The Worst.

I did write pages and pages of journal entries – with pen and paper – and I’ll wade through those and give you guys the highlights reel.  In due time and after I catch my breath and wipe away our family’s collective tears.  (If we’ve ever wanted to transport our entire friends, framily, family and people groups anywhere besides where we live – Colorado is that place.)

As soon as we reached the dirt road we turned on the Okee Dokee Brothers and stuck our heads out of the sunroof.

 

 

It was all kinds of rejoicing as we piled out of the car and greeted our ranch buddies and were assigned our horses – yes, Otto had Ace again and you’ll never believe my horses’s name.

There was riding all week and so much good stuff thrown in there that made for long and slow days and yet, a speedy week.  And I’ll share all the photos – and maybe some of the videos – until you literally ask me to stop.

 

 

These are my boots on the first day.

 

 

And these are my boots on the last day.

 

 

That’s blood, by the way, on my boots – the splotches and the dried blood around the edges.

Which should make for a good story – another day.

You’ll let me take my time, won’t you?

 

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