Sun danced through clouds, painting a warm, alpen glow on Mt. Sneffels in the San Juan mountain range of Southwest Colorado. The frigid fall morning welcomed 5 inches of crystal, white snow. While awaiting another burst of magical sunlight, a nice looking, gray-haired cowboy approached me, kindly warning "You know this is private property. Could you please move your truck?" I replied, "Sure. Are you the owner?" "No, I'm... not the owner," he stammered as if not wanting to reveal too much. As we rolled back down the road, I pondered the resemblance of the cowboy to the owner of the ranch that surrounds this portion of God's country and wondered, "Would I stay in the cabin overlooking this paradise on the most beautiful night of the year, if I were Ralph Lauren?"