I started calling my gay bestie boo. It just felt right. Then I said it to my daughter and today my sister.
No clue why I’m doing this. I love them. I guess that’s why.
Good enough for me.
About a month ago I asked the gay bestie if he’d like to go on a road trip with me in June. He said yes! I asked mountains or beach as cities are kind of boring and unsafe right. now. He chose mountains which I was really hoping he’d choose. I researched and researched and put together a great trip for us for right around $700 total. I know right? I’m good at this shit!
We gathered all our supplies two weeks ago Tuesday as we would be hiking and staying in the mountains. It was fun figuring out our food and stuffs and we ended up buying matching Pride shirts at Target that we wore our first day. Wednesday morning bright and early, before 6 we packed up his car and started across Kansas. We did wear those Pride shirts that said, “We are family,” with big rainbow hearts. We made quite a sight at the gas stations and fast food restaurants of Kansas. Boo had the idea to film 30 one-second clips and make little movies of our adventure. We had so much fun with it the whole trip! The other awesome idea he came up with was to bring a wooden duck I had to put in the movies with us. We came up with his name the first few hours of the trip. He is Reginald P. Sneffels. We just liked the name Reginald. P stands for penis, of course, as we both like it. Sneffels is the mountain range we were headed to.
We were the perfect travel companions ya’ll. We are 30 years apart in age but in everything else so freaking compatible it’s crazy. Both raised on farms so we understand hard work but we both love being in the city now, both liberal as all hell in our politics so we could talk about all that’s happening, both goofy and silly so we could sing and dance together in the car and not feel weird, both respectful of the other’s moods and emotions letting each other have our sad or angry times without recrimination, both loving all the experiences and making each other laugh so hard I almost got new ab muscles, not quite but almost. We talked for hours and hours and hours about love, sex, family, the world, our hopes and dreams, what we’ve learned about ourselves, and men, men, men.
He fell in love with the mountains. Oh it was his first trip to Colorado, forgot to tell ya.
We left on Friday morning to hike five miles to a hut on a mountain. It was wild. I’m out of shape from quarantine and carbs, bought a new backpack and hadn’t fitted it ’cause COVID policy meant no stores would do that so I was a bit stressed and cried the morning we were heading to the hike. We got up to 10,100 feet the first few miles in and the directions said we’d hike 900 feet up to 11,000. Sounded easy. Was not easy. We took so many breaks and at one point just plopped down on the tiny narrow scary trail to lament that we were allowed out on this mountain not knowing what the ever living fuck we were doing.
Not fifteen minutes later we were staring at the most beautiful range of mountains I’ve ever seen and I’ve been hiking in Colorado since I was 13. We were on Wilson’s Creek summit staring at Sneffels, Kismet, Cirque, and I forget the others right now. We knew the names because as we stood there gawking and actually sort of screaming in glee, we heard a yell and a mountain biker, a fucking hot mountain biker came zipping down at us. I know my mouth fell open. The physicality of this just amazed me. Not only that he was so nice to talk with us a minute. I was in lust. I didn’t even get his name though and off he went.
We had lunch on the summit and then journeyed to our hut on the mountain. The huts were great as it was shelter with a vinyl mattress pad, a gas stove, and a nice outhouse. Glamping for sure. We got our water from a spring shooting out of the side of the mountain, treated but it was the best tasting water ever.
We hiked 15 miles in total over the three days, which I know isn’t much to “real” hikers but to us it was a lot. We were in awe at the beauty and thoroughly enjoyed the adventure. There were some dicey moments. The stove didn’t work at hut two and we thought we’d have to Cliff bar it for supper something we definitely did NOT want to do but we figured out the wood stove and made our instant mashed potatoes and Spam. Yum.
Another dicey moment came as we were climbing down, 2600+ feet the last day and it was steep, steep, steep. It was loose gravel and we had these packs on. At one point I was standing there with tears in my eyes scared to take a step because I knew I was going to tumble over. A mom and two boys were on their way up and come upon gay bestie trying to talk me down. She said, “Just sit down and scoot your boot.” So I did. I plopped right down in that gravel/dirt and scooted my ass around that corner. We were mofo exhausted on Sunday and walked out at noon with not much sleep and weary legs.
We felt so accomplished and that’s what this kind of trip does for you. It is possible to die out there. It really is. You could easily fall and twist an ankle or break something, you could get dehydrated, even have an altercation with a bear possibly. There was no cell service most of the time. You gotta figure shit out and be smart and stay focused. The beauty of the mountains, the aspen, the forests, those streams… there’s nothing like it.
The last night out on the mountains I had to go pee at 3 a.m. My god those stars. They seemed right in front of me. I went in and got boo up and we stood together just staring up at them feeling so very happy.
Together six days, 24 hours a day.
We went into the trip as friends and came out as family.
Twas incredible dear readers.
Go have an adventure.
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