Tag Archives: dog

spring has sprung.

6 May

We had our first thunderstorm of the season today.

Over the last month or so, we’ve had some “thunderstorms” sweep through the county, but each of those bouts of thunder and lightening were in the company of snow; needless to say I was surprised to see that this particular thunderstorm was accompanied by RAIN, not snow.

It didn’t last long, a mere 5 minutes or so, much like our typical summer afternoon rainstorm, but in those five minutes, I stopped what I was doing and sat quietly at my desk, office window cracked, and let the cool breeze blow over my bare arms, goose bumps prickling across my skin. I breathed in the scent of rain and listened to the thunder rumble over the mountaintops and realized that though I am thrilled to get a sneak peak of summer, the deluge of rain means our soft spring snow is going to melt faster, thereby bringing the ski season to a fast approaching end.

Sick, you say?

Perhaps, I say.

Though, that just means you haven’t yet had the opportunity to ski in bikini weather 🙂

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in like a lion.

10 Mar

Arapahoe Basin, Winter Park, Keystone, Breck, Montezuma, and Summit Cove.

love.

14 Feb

Though some may not approve, namely the groomers and nordic skiers who stay out late chasing the sunset, running as fast as you can down a groomed trail is just the best.

The ABSOLUTE best.

joy

mayhem is one!

4 Dec

Happy first birthday to my favorite monster pup!

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whistle while you work.

15 Oct

The Inn has been closed for fall cleaning and Mayhem has been onsite reigning over her favorite hotel from her favorite throne.

Similar to her owner, Mayhem talks A LOT. Not necessarily barking, but something closer to a wookie noise.

It’s a low, guttural groan that starts deep in her belly before belting out at varying frequencies for the world to hear.

We call it her singing voice.

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july, a montage.

25 Jul

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livin’ the high life.

29 Apr

I slept with my window open on Monday night.

Not just cracked to let a bit of cool mountain air in, I mean, blinds open, snuggle under layers upon layers of down blankets and wake up with cheeks that are chilled to the touch, wide open.

When I woke up, I realized that it wasn’t Mayhem waking me up with a squeaky yawn, but rays of sunlight just making their way up and over Buffalo and Red, streaming in across my bedroom floor.

Those golden rays held the promise of Spring and immediately filled me with glee as Mayhem and I jumped out of bed and danced around the living room celebrating the start of a day that was sure to be filled with adventures in the sunshine.

Mr. A’s childhood buddy was visiting and the day before, in anticipation of beautiful weather, we had decided on a spring hike up to Kite Lake, located just above Alma in the valley below four fourteeners known to locals as the Decalibron loop (Mt. Democrat, Mt. Lincoln, Mt. Cameron, Mt. Bross).

We piled into my car, the four of us (my colleague, Ed joined us as well) and two pups, and made our way up and over Hoosier Pass and down into the tiny hamlet of Alma, known for Al-Mart, Alma’s Only Bar and of course its claim to fame as the “highest incorporated town in the United States”.

The road to Kite Lake was still snowed in, so we parked about three miles below the lake at the old Paris Mill and began our hike, trudging through heavy snow, fresh from Monday’s consistent showers.

I meandered a bit, taking in the beauty of the mountains and soaking up the rays and let the guys peel off ahead, bringing Abbey and Mayhem trotting along with them.

As I wandered, I took in the silence.

But for my own footsteps, the song bouncing around my brain (“Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog”, always Jeremiah and his antics while I hike…wtf?!) and heart pounding steadily in my chest, it was silent.

No trucks chugging up I70, no chatter from others roaming beside me, no pups barking impatiently as I bent down to tie my shoe.

Silence.

I marveled for a moment, allowing my brain to soak in the quietness, feeling my soul relax and settle into the scenery. And then I heard it, music. An orchestra of sounds reverberating off of the stately peaks surrounding the valley.

The drip, drip, dropping of snow and ice melting off of towering evergreen trees.

The twittering of birds announcing the arrival of Spring, calling up their neighbors to dance in the sunshine.

The crash of snow sliding down steep mountainsides as the bright sun warmed the underbelly of layers and layers of snow.

The gurgling of a creek coming alive again after a long winter’s nap.

As I listened to the cacophony of sounds, I realized it wasn’t the trail that was silent, it was my brain. My thoughts, my impatience at moving forward, it was me that had become silent in the midst of the beauty and the music of the high country.

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