A month in the life: Air bnb time

Dillon, Colorado //

Temps all the way down into the 40s made it hard to emerge from our warm little cave and go outside this morning.  At the same time, it was a welcome change from the steady wave of heat we found ourselves in for most of July.  Slivers of sun shone between the pine trees, and it was a noticeable shift to want to be in the warmth of the rays rather than seeking refuge from them.  It looked like it would be a beautiful day to hang out around this campsite, but we had an Airbnb reservation in Dillon with our name on it.

The summer of 2025 has been an experiment in seeing what life would be like traveling around Colorado without our travel trailer in tow.  Living in just the truck camper means being able to access harder-to-reach places and not putting the truck through the wear and tear of towing a heavy trailer over Colorado’s many high-elevation passes.  It has also meant having much smaller quarters for getting ready for weddings and editing all the photos that ensue after the job is done.  We made it work in June and July, but I found myself craving more space.  That craving led to the decision to try out AirBnBs for August’s weddings.

At 10am we departed camp and made our way back to Highway 24.  To get to Dillon, our choices were to either turn left and go over Red Cliff and Vail passes or turn right and go over Tennessee and Fremont passes.  In this part of Colorado, there’s always a mountain or two to get over no matter where you’re headed.  Going through Leadville (and over Tennessee and Fremont passes) meant less time on I-70, and so the choice for us was easy.

Once in Leadville, we ran errands.  I knew the post office and grocery store would be less hectic in Leadville than in Dillon, so we took advantage of driving through North America’s highest incorporated town.  These are the unavoidable little life tasks that can take way more time than expected when living on the road.  That’s because every store you visit is new.  Figuring out how to get there and then figuring out how to find what you want once you’re there takes way more time than frequenting the same grocery store, post office, etc., that are in your hometown.  One benefit of spending our summers in the same region means we’re not constantly having to lean on Google to figure out where we’re going grocery shopping, doing laundry, getting water, and so on.

In Dillon, we settled into our Airbnb, a small ground-floor condo with just enough room for us to spread out all our gear in preparation for the weekend’s wedding.  Being in the tourism hotspot that is Summit County means Airbnbs are widely available, but they’re not cheap.  Whenever I’m searching for a place to stay, I walk a fine line between not breaking the bank and not landing us in a beat-up, overused condo.  This particular spot seems like it will do just fine.

All evening, we’re both very aware of all the noises that accompany living with neighbors above and beside you.  We hear every flush of the toilet and running of the sink from the unit above us.  When I feel the dining chair I’m sitting in begin to shake, I realize the neighbors have just begun a load of laundry.  Then, upon climbing into bed and turning the lights out, I realize there are bright street lights outside of which I can’t control.  We have become so accustomed to silence and pitch-black nights that I realize in this moment just how spoiled we are.  I’m grateful for the opportunity to have this space, but come Monday, I’m going to be so ready to return to solitude somewhere in the woods.