Swept Up.
On day two of the Surprise Anniversary Weekend Getaway, we slept until a leisurely 7:00 a.m. That’s what happens when your life is full of littles; you just get in the habit of early rising. It’s an OK habit, I guess, as long as the sleep you get is without interruption. And we had that kind of sleep, so we woke up starving and ready to hit the trails.
Literally on that hitting the trails part.
After this awesome breakfast at, quite possibly, the cleanest “diner” spot we’ve ever been to,
And after Hank tended to some morning business stuff,
We found our way to the south end of Crested Butte and at a trail head. Little did I know that my smarty pants husband was capturing the sunscreen slather of my lily-white legs.
I think we emptied an entire tube of sunscreen between this day and the next, and neither of us are sorry for it since last year we were scared silly from a phone call from my dermatologist telling me to come in for a little “procedure” to take care of some skin cancer I had. Lesson learned. And rest assured, they got it all. Now, you might say, we’re a poster family for sunscreen around here.
But back to the hike. There were forks in the trail and loops to here and there, and since we had no agenda or small people with us, we just went wherever we felt. And this is what we saw.
And then this.
We had passed a mine entrance or two and figured that this was an old dump site from one. So odd to see this out there among all that new spring life. And so humbling. We discovered later in the hike that the trail we were on was brand new; like just made two days before by 175 volunteers. Brand new. And people were already enjoying the snot out of it.
But then we ended up here,
At which point I just KNEW that this dish of yummy
Was going to come riding through on his trusty steed, hold out an arm for me and sweep me up his horse to ride away through those trees.
And Hank so delicately reminded me that after being “swept up,” I would most likely fall off of that horse and he would help me up, dust off my butt, and still hold hands with me as walked on.
He speaks the truth.
But if I could have spoken in Elvish, I totally would have. A few years ago when I was a high school counselor, there were a couple of students who befriended me who spoke it. I should have paid better attention…
And after about four miles of loops and overs and unders, we traipsed back to the FJ and went back into town for a smoothie, a LARABAR, and a little shopping for our peeps at home. While shopping, we saw this,
And decided to engage in a little pedal power ourselves. But not on pink cruisers. Boy-colored ones.
About an hour and a half later, two sweaty, sticky, and dusty anniversarians crawled back to the room for a little swimming pool and hot tub time, and then found this in our room.
Well, Arielle and Karen, we took that as a challenge and showered and changed and went out again. But this time, for the best steaks in the entire world. Seriously. They made them at Maxwell’s on Elk Avenue. I don’t think that either of us had ever had steaks that delicious. So…if you go to CB, go to Maxwell’s. Go.
It made us this happy.
And then we gave up and went back to the lodge and slept for nine hours straight.
