Final Reflections on the Colorado Scouting Trip

This final post wraps up my Colorado Scouting Trip, covering the last leg of the journey and sharing some reflections on the experience as a whole.

I left the hotel around 4:30 a.m., just before the worst of the storm system hit. After loading up the truck, I did my customary “idiot lap” through the hotel—one last sweep to make sure I hadn’t left anything behind. Just as I re-entered the lobby, the wind howled to life, bending trees sideways in the parking lot. Moments later, a torrential downpour followed. I ended up waiting another 30 minutes for the worst of it to pass before getting on the road.

The morning was spent on I-40, and I struggled to stay alert. Despite getting rest the night before, I felt dangerously exhausted, so I pulled into a rest area and took a much-needed 30-minute nap. That short break, along with an iced coffee, was enough to carry me the rest of the way home—despite a couple of frustrating slowdowns, especially near Asheville where construction continues following the Hurricane Helene landslides.

I made it home around 9 p.m., greeted warmly by Robin and the pets. A quick bite to eat, a few stories shared, and I crashed—wired, but grateful to be back.

Thoughts From the Road

After logging thousands of miles across the country, one thing is clear: driving long distances on American highways is not for the faint of heart. Beyond the varied road conditions—some smooth, some cratered with potholes—it’s the behavior of other drivers that wears you down. Eighteen-wheelers will change lanes directly in front of you for no reason, even on an otherwise empty highway. Tailgaters rush to pass you, only to get boxed in by traffic ahead. It’s a strange blend of aggression and futility.

Reflections on Colorado

Could I live in Colorado? Absolutely—but not without compromises.

What I loved:

The access to public lands and recreation is unmatched. Riding through those wide-open spaces—gravel roads twisting through forest and mesa—felt like freedom. The small mountain towns have a vitality that’s hard to describe: a collective energy centered around health, outdoor activity, and quality of life. It felt refreshing, even inspiring, especially when compared to the often more sedentary vibe of the Southeast.

What gives me pause:

The cost of living in mountain towns remains high, and the winters are long—something we’d need to mentally and physically prepare for. The desert-like landscapes, while beautiful in their own right, lack the lush, green vibrance I’ve grown to love in North Carolina. And the access to fresh, local, organic produce just isn’t on the same level. Here at home, we’ve built relationships with small farmers and enjoy an abundance that’s hard to leave behind.

I also couldn’t help but notice the humidity returning as I crossed into Texas and beyond. It was like walking into a wall of wet heat—a stark reminder of what makes Colorado’s climate so enticing.

Closing Thoughts

All in all, it was a rewarding trip. I learned a lot—about the land, about what I value, and about what compromises I’m willing to make. I’ll be taking the next couple of weeks to let it all simmer, and Robin and I will talk through what this means for us moving forward.

Colorado has a strong pull, no doubt. 

Thanks for following along.