Funny story: Jay (Mr. Temple says I can call him Jay) is a city boy, born and bred. I am a small town girl in my heart, despite over a decade in the city. And yet, when it comes to camping, Jay is down for it and I am…
I am a princess, okay? Camping is cold and damp. It involves eating two-day old cold cuts being kept marginally cool in an increasingly soggy cooler. It’s lying awake at night, wondering if the noise outside your tent is a raccoon, a moose, or a bear with a taste for the flesh of nervous romance writers.
Jay is a miracle worker at finding fun stuff to do. I don’t know how he does it. It shouldn’t have been surprising when I got the text message in June that said “let’s go glamping in Zion National Park!”, but I was at work and it caught me off guard.
Glamping? In Zion? Sure enough, there’s a place that gives you a big tent with running water, a king size bed with lots of blankets, and a wood fired stove for when the October nights get chilly.
The views are free.
Except for the one I’m currently in. And the GRL hotel where I’ll be arriving tomorrow! But. Like. They’re never going to have views like the views I had.
Also, Jay is super skilled at long haul road trips. So we covered all 670 miles from Zion to Denver in one go. The drive is epic. Anyone who ever attempted to go from northeast Colorado to southwest Utah in a covered wagon deserves a medal.
Tomorrow, I find my people. If you’re reading this and attending GRL, find me and say hi!