I came to Colorado the first time to get over a boy (and I say “boy” intentionally). True story: I know it’s lame, but it had been a few months since graduation, I was living at home, and caught up in a romance of passion with a flaky young gent who was, at the time of our first meeting, in a long distance relationship with another girl. Here I was, the other woman, despite his insistence that he wasn’t ready to be with anyone else even after breaking her heart on her Fourth of July visit to our New England paradise. His emotional instability nearly broke my heart, so I copycatted a friend who was Rockies-bound to try my hand at ski bumming. I found myself in a tiny town in the high Rockies, just the wrong side of the continental divide, and so my life as a nomad began.