Love on the Rocks
This definitely calls for a mountain song.
My family is obsessed with Colorado. It would seem likely that they'll migrate there some day. I, however, have conveniently missed every vacation there - I've only been to downtown Denver. (Which, is a great mix of people that 'have a vacation home in Aspen and possess a wardrobe entirely of Patagonia,' 'just love the great outdoors and need to live somewhere with an active lifestyle,' or 'smoke weed on park benches and rarely shower.'
Yes, that was a stereotype, and don't worry - I am joking. I'm allowed to say it because I'm from Kentucky. Where we only eat Kentucky Fried Chicken and put Mountain Dew in our children's baby bottles.
Bryan lived in Colorado for a year right after college doing an internship with a YoungLife camp. It was a really significant and important season of his life, so I was excited to put names to faces and see how he lived for a while. One of his close friends from that year was getting married, and Bryan was a groomsman.
So we went on a trip!
Successfully acquired a rental car. I would later have to pee so badly that we had to stop in a dinosaur museum. And I loved it.
The view right as we drove into Buena Vista. It's incredible. For the duration of our visit I found myself exclaiming things like, "I CAN'T BELIEVE PEOPLE LIVE HERE." or, "LET'S MOVE."
Before we left, Bryan told me the deer exhibited squirrel-like qualities in behavior and abundance. I didn't understand what that meant until I saw them in parking lots, driveways, and leisurely strolls across the street. They just don't care.
We went for a walk (a rocky one, naturally) and Bryan made fun of me for my outfit. Rightfully so, because I own no North Face, and was not walking briskly with my chocolate lab leashless beside me.
Made him laugh and get all squinty. I win.
Are you kidding me?
And we skied! Well, I skied. Bryan snowboarded.
My family is completely baffled by the fact that I know how to ski well. I am too. (I say well in a relative sense of the word). Mostly because I'm not particularly athletic, and I'm severely accident prone and uncoordinated. I attribute this to the fact that in the fifth grade, my friends convinced me to ditch my ski lessons.
I'd like to say that I picked it up on my own when they did that, but after I burned a hole in my gloves from the tow rope (which I still call a rope tow), I started crying at the top of the hill and an old man skier had to carry me down the hill. And then I went back to my lessons. And learned to ski without crying.
This was the point at which I was enjoying this incredible view after a long run. Bryan had taken a tumble a long way back and I skied right past him, thinking he was fine and also thinking "I AM SO FAST." What a nice and thoughtful person... (he was okay, by the way).
ARE YOU STILL KIDDING ME?
resting after the tumble
stressing me out on the supposedly frozen river
Congratulations, John and Natalie!
We had a blast.
I finally saw Bryan dance.
I can confirm that there is nothing like it. I was dumbfounded.*
*update: Bryan would like me to clarify that I meant dumbfounded in a positive way. Meaning, he is a good dancer. I can confirm it, I was just not expecting him to know how to salsa ... or go out into a dance circle with Michael Jackson moves.