I have to admit, I was scared. When we had to ski out to the yurt into a mix of pitch black and muted white because we had gotten there late, I really was just hoping that I remembered the way.

My wife is a great writer, but I don't know if I've read anything of hers that compares to this. Describing her fear as we skied through the dark may be her best work yet.

People loved my post about the Grass Creek Yurt, because the yurt is crazy, awesome, and yes, we made it there safe and sound. There was a brief time where I wasn't sure if we would.

While we were having the experience, it did occur to me that it was going to make for a great subject for her blog. She writes about growth, overcoming her fears, and doing new things.

You see, we arrived at the jumping off point for our yurt trip late, after dark, and I know just as well as anyone that dark, snowy woods are much too dangerous for travel. On all the info you get from the yurt, it says "DO NOT START OUT FOR THE YURT IN THE DARK!" It's a recipe for disaster.

When my headlamp flashed on this side, I can't tell you how relieved I was!

So why did I do it? I'd been there before and (sort of) knew the way. My former story on the yurts is here, but my wife's perspective on it, as a person who was really scared but trusted in her guide (me) is priceless.

My weenie natural instinct, whom I’ve been quite chummy with throughout the course of my life was in a heated battle with my brave alter ego whom I’m still getting to know but makes me a little uncomfortable sometimes. Lo and behold, my weenie was definitely winning. Why were we in the middle of nowhere headed deeper into the black abyss of the high Colorado Rocky Mountains?

To tell the truth, as we were trekking, I was a uneasy, too. It was cold, black dark, the wind was whipping, and I hadn't been there for over 5 years. Maybe it wasn't my wisest outdoorsman move, but we're here and in one piece so apparently I do know what I'm doing.