The 38th State

Things are going well. I'm snuggled on my pretty bed with my pretty Moose in my pretty little rental house. Did I mention that I'm rather good looking myself? Work is going well. I've never been more interested in my job, which is true in both my teaching gig and my work at the ballet.

I never wrote about my trip to Colorado, which was a highlight of the summer. I did not do a very good job of vacationing this summer, due to a debt-free push (post to come), and a lack of vacation days since I'm still quite new at my job. I think I was excited to be on vacation--if you don't believe me, I will share with you this selfie that I took in the forest service bathroom (one step up from a porta-potty) on our first night camping.

Told you. Pumped. 

We drove in at sunset. Our campsite was up on a large plateau above the Colorado River. Although the formations reminded me of Zion or areas around Moab, the valley was green and lush thanks to the river. It was different than the Utah formations that I've seen before. 1 point for Colorado.

This is Colorado State Monument. It. was. beautiful. 

 We chose a hike that was about eight miles, with a lot of interesting formations and scenery. The first half mile was dropping down into the valley. Michael and I had some interesting grunting and wheezing noises when we had to climb out of the valley at the end of the hike.

Coming around the "brick ovens" to get to the "kissing couple." 

So romantic.

I was feeling pretty acomplished with my speedy hiking, when a man ran RAN by me. The nearest trail head was five miles away. This was the start of my spectating of incredible athletic feats. 

Self-timed and self-satisfied.

We drove onto Aspen. We ate dinner in a restaurant next to a group of socialites that were discussing in tandem, their recent drug use, their favorite Gatsby themed parties and their least favorite Gatsby themed parties, and of course how hard it is to text and walk. Aspen had many charms, but I do have a lasting impression of excess. PS - will somebody invite me to a Gatsby party. We camped outside of the city and went on a morning hike, which involved some deer sightings and a few photo ops.

Snip-snap dragon. In other news, that is my new rap name.

I read a book by this river. Michael received 20 mosquito bites. He must be more delicious than me. The good news, as long as I travel with my sister or my husband I don't need insect repellent.

 He's smiling through the bug bites. 

A surprising bonus to visiting Aspen was the drive between Aspen and Denver over the Continental Divide. 

 Another point for Colorado.

I stood in line behind a group of German tourists to pose for this photo. Worth it? I think so.

We made it to Denver in the evening and synced up with my parents. The next few days involved exploring Denver. 

 The Denver Art Museum was very impressive. I appreciated the collection, especially the Sandy Skoglund installations, but the building itself is the stand out. 

Look out for the shady group in the foreground.

We headed through the city to the Botanical Gardens. I'm a sucker for a greenhouse, but these gardens were particularly impressive. 

Greenhouse, complete with tree house.  

I call it: Titans of the Pond 

My Uncle Dean's photographer's heart was filled. 

Deborah Butterfield's horses were roaming the property.

I was so impressed with the hanging planters that I ordered two when I got back from the trip. The picture on the right is my porch. Check out tentaclearts.com.



I made the whole group wake up early to head to Red Rocks Amphitheater to partake in what the internet told me to do while I was in Denver. Well, internet, you rocked it, because the Yoga on the Rocks was probably my favorite moment of the trip. My mom and I did some yoga with the masses. It was truly amazing to see 2,000 people moving together. In the process, my mom and I both got a little emotional.

There is something powerful about a group of people setting intention and (literally) spreading their arms out to the world all before 8:00 am.

We made it to Boulder to cheer on my awesome in-laws in the Boulder Ironman.

Racers and support crew. I love it when different groups of my family converge.

Waking up at 4:00 am has its perks. Check out that view!

 And they're off!

Photo credit: Dean Taylor

And she's smiling. Because she's crazy. And awesome. She's crazy awesome. 2.4 miles swim: check!

 Go John!

 On to the run! 112 mile bike ride: check.

The spectators were also impressive - nice work team. 

 26.2 mile run: check!. At mile 20 of the marathon, Becky caught up to John and they finished together. Yep, we cried.

So amazing!

Good work, Colorado. 

Ten Years Old and it Feels so Good

I'll skip the cursory "I'm behind on my blogging," since, obviously, I'm behind on my blogging.

A few months ago, Michael and I visited Arizona to see a new house, three nieces, three nephews, and two tired yet good-spirited parents. We also started a new tradition, unglamorously titled, "The Ten-Year-Old Trip," in which Micheal and I take kiddos that turn ten on their very own birthday trip.

We drove to Parker Canyon lake in southern Arizona and also visited Tombstone so that Michael could enter the Wyatt Earp look alike contest.

Clearly, I sat on a rock and took pictures. How impressive is that lake? 

We were setting up the tent next to a family with a few small children that was having a hard time with the concept of a public campground and preferred to spend their time shouting to each other and taking turns sitting in the car. Michael and I were grumbling about our new neighbors, when Morgan, diplomatically, commented, "At least we don't have any one in our campsite under ten years old."

Fishing lesson number one, in which Michael scared everyone by demonstrating how easily a fish hook can get lodged into your skin. *shiver*

He's a natural.

Pier ninjas.

We woke up the next morning, with practice casts under our belt. I was accopanied by the world's most optimistic fisherman and, perhaps, the world's least optimistic fisherman. I fell somewhere in the middle. Michael kept muttering things like "wind" and "need more bobbers." 

I was optimistic, until, I ran into a GIANT TURKEY. With a BLUE HEAD. And a BAD ATTITUDE. I just do not like birds. 

Another suspicious character. 

He's only in it for the hat. 

At the end of the day, I apologized to Morgan that we didn't catch anything. He said, "Yes we did. We caught sea weed, some algae, other people's fishing line..." I told you he was optimistic.

Next, we traveled to Tombstone. 

Michael placed fifth in the Wyatt Earp contest. Not really, but some day. We learned that although none of the characters they were portraying lived past thirty, the re-enacters had an average age of 65.

Other highlights included "the best rootbeer in the West" where a man dressed as Doc Holliday told Morgan the story of Morgan Earp. It was some kind of awesome. Morgan also picked out a pocket knife (after we called his parents). 

So happy to have this kid in my life.