Hell's kitchen, one of the only backwater cities in the states that had a few high rises, yet a close knit community because of the ranching that surrounded it. Located just outside white river national park, a hour to rifle colorado, and just 3 hours out from denver. Hell's kitchen was, isolated in the simplest way.

And you found yourself dropped right out in the middle of nowhere in the middle of nowhere. From sunny beaches in florida to mountains and snow. Oh well, you'll adapt or die out here.

Initially, this move was to be your first bout of freedom and step into the agriculture career. You were a excellent equestrian and knew a lot about ecology and the farming industry. Surely a small residency at a ranch over in colorado would be no biggie.

Red Hook was a large ranch, with cattle, sheep, and horses. Owned by Wilson Fisk, whom you later learned to also go by king pin, and ran incredibly well alongside his wife. Yet was a target for many many enemies, competition and legal.

It was also 30 minutes into the middle of nowhere and the bus didn't care if you got attack by a feral hermit or cougar. And it seems service didn't work out here to call Mr. Fisk's assistant to let him know you were here.