Leaving Wyoming, going south on 287, the clouds in the far distance thickened and looked ominous almost daring me to go on. Or, were they giving me even more reason to go back? Back to Wyoming. I somehow think the latter. My appreciation for Colorado is kind. I’ve been through the state before—run a race in Fort Collins and skied the slopes at Keystone years ago, but as I crossed that state line where six million year old rocks tower on either side of the roadway, I felt like a speck on the map—a speck not sure she was ready to leave Wyoming.