I arrived at the small cabin in the mountains just outside Durango as the snow storm began.
There was already a good amount of snow accumulated, but I knew that, given the forecast and this sudden flurry, I would likely be snowed in for the better part of a week.
I’d gone up to the cabins for a meet-up with a girl I’d been talking to on Tinder, but I found out Saturday night (the night I arrived) that she wasn’t going to get out and brave the storm. Needless to say, I was bummed.
A little bar across the street was the only bit of civilization for miles, and it happened to be open that night, because (as I later found out) the owner lived upstairs and opened it every night, rain or shine, for the guests in the surrounding cabins.
I went in that first night thinking the only patrons would be from the seven small cabins (one of which I was staying in) across the street.
I was wrong.