Over sweeping shots of canyons, peaks and starry skies, Amy, in a cowboy hat, plaid flannel and quilted vest, stands in a mountain meadow and sells Colorado like a state tourism ad: the scenery, the lively towns, and access to all the services a visitor might need, every one of them perfectly legal. Testimonials follow in the familiar travel-ad style, from a couple outside a ski lodge who call the trip a bucket-list item they barely survived to see, to a woman in a clinic waiting room whose employer covered her travel and time off at the price of telling HR far more than she wanted to. Amy insists nobody needs to explain a visit, then rolls out a map showing how conveniently close Colorado sits to Utah, Arizona, Wyoming, Nebraska and Oklahoma, with arrows sweeping in from each. A Texan at a café weighs her other options, and the ad closes with tips for planning the trip discreetly, a private browser window and a real abortion-access support group's website, before Amy's final pitch to come on out.
