After all, I am at the mercy of my beloved Mother Nature, Silverton, CO

Friday, September 12, another night spent in the hostel.

It would be my fourth night now. The rain doesn’t want to stop. Every so often, there’s a short break, but the skies remain gray and heavy. And the thunder is loud and fierce.

This detour lasts longer than I plan. What worries me most is the flood warning. Each time I face a serious decision about my safety, I think of my boys and my dear friends who care about me and my journey. By now, I’ve earned their trust in my judgment, so keeping them at ease matters to me.

Because I realize that one wrong decision could end it all. I also don’t want to experience again such a terrifying night as I did last year when I traveled through El Paso. I should have taken a motel for the night instead of camping and stayed protected from the blasting wind.

After all, I am at the mercy of my beloved Mother Nature.

The Avon Hostel is truly a charming place, clean, warm, and welcoming. There are a few shared rooms and some private ones. Most of the people here are young thru-hikers waiting for the skies to clear. Conversations are about hiking—my language.

Every morning now, the beautiful mountains around are nowhere to be seen. When the sun makes a brief visit and the skies clear, I discover that the first snow of the season covers the peaks with a powdery white crown.

The quaint town of Silverton becomes a place I get to know well and admire for its charm.

I get to enjoy the company of my roommate, Cole (trail name Pistol Pete), and Maria (still waiting for her trail name to find her). Both are hiking north, when most hikers at this point are wrapping up the Colorado Trail by going south toward Durango. They each were hiking solo before meeting here.

In the evening, I meet Jess (Jam) and her friend Jess (Shade), who are also hiking north. They all have a month left before returning to their lives back home, and they decide to continue together as a group.

Well... it turns out that neither Jess can get a bed or a room at the hostel. Luckily, Pat, the owner, lets them know that if they can find someone willing to let them sleep on the floor, they can stay.

Yes, I do choose the small room with fewer people for a reason, and of course, I welcome both to stay in our room. That choice creates a beautiful bond between us all.

Saturday, September 13, 3:00 PM, beautiful clear skies...

Tomorrow the storm is supposed to vanish, yet tonight it still calls for rain. I would like to be able to enjoy the rest of the Million Dollar Hwy. However, I definitely don't want to be stuck in deep mud while camping along the way.

Now I am the one with no bed—everything is booked. My next solution feels just right: I’ll sleep in my car outside the hostel. I ask for permission, and Pat kindly agrees. I can still cook dinner in the kitchen, charge my power station, and wrap myself in my heated blanket, knowing I’ll recharge it again before I leave in the morning.

So here I am, tucked in a quiet corner, catching up on this post. My young friends left an hour ago, taking their chances with the rain. My prayer is for them to stay dry. Knowing they have each other brings me comfort.

5:00 PM It's pouring rain again...

Tomorrow is a new day!