Blue skies, mountains and water in San Isabel National Forest combine for spectacular views near Buena Vista, Colorado.

Blue skies, mountains and water in San Isabel National Forest combine for spectacular views near Buena Vista, Colorado.

<p>A dusty trail in San Isabel National Forest leads to stunning views near Buena Vista, Colorado.</p>

A dusty trail in San Isabel National Forest leads to stunning views near Buena Vista, Colorado.

<p>Clouds cast their shadows over the mountains in San Isabel National Forest near Buena Vista, Colorado.</p>

Clouds cast their shadows over the mountains in San Isabel National Forest near Buena Vista, Colorado.

<p>San Isabel National Forest provides stunning views near Buena Vista, Colorado.</p>

San Isabel National Forest provides stunning views near Buena Vista, Colorado.

<p>Lodging in Buena Vista, Colorado, faces the beautiful Mt. Princeton.</p>

Lodging in Buena Vista, Colorado, faces the beautiful Mt. Princeton.

<p>A rainbow appears following a rain shower in Colorado.</p>

A rainbow appears following a rain shower in Colorado.

A wood-fired, mushroom and extra cheese pizza is the only thing standing between my husband and me and checking into our hotel for the evening.

Wake, explore, eat, explore, eat, rest and repeat. We have a pretty comfortable routine when we travel. But on this particular day, we encounter some glitches. Glitches that require us to alter our lodging plans. Glitches that require us to secure an alternative hotel from our original reservations. Glitches that have cost us time and additional travel and have pushed our dinner time well beyond when we normally eat. And dare I say, glitches that have pushed our respective patience?

Packed with scenic hikes and with driving long stretches across Colorado highways, our day is immersed in natural beauty, in unexpected discoveries and in unforgettable moments of adventure.

Sitting in front of us on the table is a meal that doesn’t look too bad, either. Even more rewarding is the thought that once we leave here, we will be getting some much-needed rest.

As the two of us allow our thoughts to transition from reflections of the day to the logistics of the next couple of hours, the lights in the restaurant flicker. They flicker, again, and then they go out. In the darkened room, we diners glance around at each other in confusion.

Seconds pass. That is all, and the lights come back on. We all exchange shrugs and smiles and return to our food.

My husband and I finish eating and begin the drive toward our hotel. A welcome pop-up rain has showered the area, giving it a fresh smell and glistening appearance.

The sun is beginning its descent, and two blocks away from our destination, my husband and I comment on how surprisingly dark everything looks. Then we realize why: traffic lights are out, as are the street lights and those on each and every building along the way.

When we enter the dark hotel, we find a hotel employee on his cell phone, and we allow him some space while waiting for him to become available.

“Our power is out, so I can’t check you in,” he states the obvious, stashing his phone in his pocket. “And we have no word on when it will be back up. Lightning.”

Well, that explains the loss of power at the restaurant. And since the hotel’s power does not return, the employee allows us to cancel our reservation.

Scrambling to devise an alternative plan for the backup plan, my husband and I walk back to our vehicle. But before we reach it, we stop. Somehow it is now framed within the arc of a rainbow stretching across the horizon. As frustrated and as fatigued as we are, we pause. This particular moment of hope and of reassurance cannot be lost on us.

Back on the road, my husband drives while I hunt for yet a third place for us to stay.

Frustration and fatigue continue to climb. But I am able to secure a room in Buena Vista, Colorado, a town between where we are coming from and where we are going to the next day.

Check-in is a blur, but we are told we will appreciate the view in the morning. In the pitch darkness of the night, this is the furthest thought from my mind, I must admit.

But in the morning, my husband and I recall the promise. And indeed, the spectacular, sweeping view of Mt. Princeton wins us over, softening the previous day’s challenges. Challenges already fading from memory.

(Note: Marjorie Appelman is a retired English, communications and journalism teacher from Mason County High School and co-founder of the travel blog Tales from the Trip, which is on Instagram and Facebook. She can be reached at marj.appelman@gmail.com.)