our first trip away
December 13th marked our first trip away together. Nothing extravagant. Nothing far. Just a few nights in Colorado Springs, followed by some quiet cabin time near Eleven Mile Reservoir. Simple. Intentional. Ours.
We stayed in Old Colorado City, keeping things slow and cozy. No packed itinerary. No pressure to “do it all.” Just walking, eating, wandering, and letting the rhythm of being together settle in.
I took Vince to some of my favorite places—introducing a Florida boy to Colorado in bite-sized, meaningful ways. One highlight: Mona Lisa Fondue Restaurant, where Vince experienced fondue for the first time. Cheese. Chocolate. A long, lingering meal that practically forces you to slow down and talk. Honestly? A perfect first-trip dinner.
We wandered through Manitou Springs, walked the town, and did the mineral springs tour—sipping from the naturally bubbling fountains, each one tasting wildly different from the last. It felt old-fashioned and grounding, like tapping into something timeless.
After a few days, we headed north to our cabins near Eleven Mile Reservoir, staying at Lake George Cabins & RV Park—quiet, rustic, surrounded by wild Colorado stillness.
Out there, everything slowed down. The kind of place where the night feels really dark and the quiet feels almost loud. We soaked in the isolation, the cold air, the simplicity of cabin life.
And then—because real life has a sense of humor—I had a panic attack one night.
No dramatic trigger. Just my nervous system deciding it had had enough. Without hesitation, we decided to go home. No guilt. No frustration. Just a calm, immediate “Okay. Let’s go.”
Driving home in the middle of the night, pitch black all around us, we got a flat tire.
Of course we did.
We pulled over, tried to change it, and promptly snapped a lug nut clean off because it had been tightened too much. Suddenly, we weren’t just tired and emotional—we were stranded. So we improvised. We drove. Stopped. Filled the tire with air. Drove some more. Repeated the process again and again until we finally made it home.
Exhausted. Slightly delirious. Weirdly bonded.
And for Christmas? Vince bought me a portable air compressor.
Just in case.
It wasn’t the trip we planned—but it ended up being exactly the kind of story that tells you everything you need to know about someone. Calm under pressure. Kind when things fall apart. Practical love disguised as preparedness.
Our first trip away wasn’t perfect.
It was better than that.