Tag Archives: Summit County Colorado

man oh man.

28 Sep


Ain’t she purdy.




2 Apr


I am suffering from a severe case of writer’s block. In the meantime, please enjoy these photos from today’s Peru Creek stroll.

Also, Rome has the best timing…

encouraging spring.

20 Mar





Confession. I am ready for summer. 

I know, I know, we LIVE for pow days out here in the High Country. “Powder Hounds” run rampant on days forecasted to “nuke”. “Weekend Warriors” elect to sit for hours in traffic on I70, just to “huck” themselves off the cliffs in Vail’s Back Bowls. Heck, even I let out a “whoop!” or two when shredding some gnarly pow pow.

But there comes a time when even high country inhabitants crave the radiant mountain sun, the blues, greens, oranges, and pinks of the wildflowers, long hikes up neighboring 14ers, babbling mountain brooks, bike rides to the Dillon Farmers Market, dock jumping along the shores of Lake Dillon, camping at local gems like “the residence”, a delightfully cold Rum Runner at the Tiki Bar, flowy sundresses (ok, ok, that might just be me…), post-work sunset strolls, and breakfast/lunch/dinner on the deck. 

Therefore, Abbey and I celebrated everyone else’s first day of spring (let’s face it…Summit tends to skip spring and jump right into summer), by taking a meandering hike up Deer Creek.

Blue bird skies, crunchy white snow, 37°, chirping birds, and breathtaking panoramas in every direction.

I sweated, Abbey panted, we shared some banana chips, and we then thanked Mother Nature for allowing us to catch a glimpse of Spring. 

heavy hearts.

26 Feb

Keystone and the surrounding community lost a warrior today.

As was so aptly noted in a message of remembrance,

“Luke was always approachable and was always there to lend an ear and of course some advice. Luke’s presence was always positive, and he epitomized the true meaning of teamwork and “One Keystone”.

Thoughts and prayers to everyone that was touched by Luke’s spirit and magnetism; especially his wife and son.



defining summit county.

3 Feb

The mountains are chock full of colloquialisms that often draw blank looks from those unfamiliar with “high-country culture“. That said, my brothers Erik and Tommy, my main man, Andrew and I collaborated on a handy encyclopedia of terms that are thrown around in daily conversation. The below list should give you a leg up when it comes to communication during your visit to the mountains. Enjoy!

  • Back-country booter (băk-kŭn′trē-bo̅o̅t): a handmade jump that is found outside of ski area boundaries
  • Bomb (bŏm): straightlining down a slope
  • Booter (bo̅o̅t-er): a jump
  • Dude (dyo̅o̅d): a male or female partner in crime, oftentimes a fellow shredder or skier.
  • Dump (dŭmp): steady snowfall that often enlists the excitement for potential blizzard conditions, therefore the slight potential for “pow pow”
  • Epic (ĕp′ĭk): another level of cool
  • Face-shots (fās-shŏt): the act in which a skier or rider carves into a powder stash and kicks up a spray that douses their face with snow
  • Gaper (găp-er): a tourist who gapes, in jaw-dropped amazement at the scenery
  • Huck (hŭk): to launch oneself off a cliff or jump without regard to one’s physical well-being. See “send it”
  • Jib (jĭb): usually small hits in the trees that have been made out of fallen logs
  • Nuke (nyo̅o̅k): a blizzard that produces blinding white-out conditions and enlists the random “whoop!” from across the hill. Definite “pow pow” is in the forecast
  • Puke (pyo̅o̅k): a snow squall that produces heavy snowfall with big flakes, often foreshadowing “pow pow”  and the appearance of “powder hounds” and “weekend warriors”
  • Powder hound (pou′dər hound): those in search of the perfect powder stash
  • Pow pow (paʊ): fresh powder, also known as freshies
  • Point it (point-it): when a skier or rider makes the smallest number of turns going down a steep run so as to gain as much speed as possible
  • Rip (rĭp): ski/ride like a boss
  • Safety meeting (sāf′tē-mē′tĭng): “pre-game”, often includes a joint and/or spirits of the organizers choice
  • Scorpion (skôr′pē-ən): the act of face-planting while riding a snowboard
  • Send it (sĕnd ĭt): to launch oneself off a cliff or jump without regard to one’s physical well-being. See “huck”
  • Shred (shrĕd): to ski or ride in an enviable way
  • Sick (sĭk): see epic
  • Stash (stăsh): powder (as in snow) that is hidden from general knowledge
  • Steezy (stē′zē): snowboard trickery that encapsulates “style” and “ease”
  • Suitcased (so̅o̅t′kās′): When a skier/rider lands a booter so hard that their body bends at the waist so far that their face hits their knees
  • Texas tuck (tĕk′səs-tŭk): when skiers position themselves in a full racing tuck position unnecessarily, typically seen on a blue or green run
  • Texas turn (tĕk′səs-tûrn): When a skier who is their carrying skies on their shoulder, turns around quickly with no regard for those who might be hit by aforementioned skis
  • Throw a gainer (thrō-ā-gā′nər): a back flip off a jump, cliff, rock, crest, etc.
  • Tight (tīt): excellent, cool, awesome
  • Tomahawk (tŏm′ə-hôk′): digging the nose of a snowboard or skis deep into the snow, causing the rider to flip head-over-heels down the hill
  • Waisteez (wāst-ē′zē): waist-deep snow
  • Weekend Warrior (wēk′ĕnd′ wôr′ē-ər): Denver-ites that come up for a weekend shred sesh; often the cause of long travel times on I70 westbound on Friday evening and I70 eastbound on Sunday afternoons
  • Whoop! (wo̅o̅p): the call of elation made by skiers and riders as they shred freshly fallen snow.
  • Yard sale (yärd-sāl): double ejection from a skier

hawaiian tropic.

9 Jan

College spring break.

Even though we knew we would be spending the week in Naples, FL., we got to planning the trip as soon as New Years Day came to pass. It didn’t matter that our sleeping arrangements would be the same as last year or that we already knew that we’d be eating dinner at The Dock on Tuesday and The Pub on Wednesday (or that the two restaurants featured pretty much the exact same menu…) or that we’d swing by D&D’s for a breakfast time chat before we hit the road on our meandering four mile walks down to the Naples Beach Hotel. It was spring break and we were planners.

We overpacked, over-planned, and woke up extra early on the day of our departure, just to ensure that we made it to the airport with ample time; and when we finally walked out of the Ft. Myers Airport to D&D’s van, it felt like we were walking through Heaven’s palm-tree lined gates.

HB and I would begin each day with a morning walk and by the time we arrived back at the condo, whomever decided to sleep through the morning walk had already laid out all of our towels by the water. Every 30 minutes or so we’d pop up and take a refreshing dip in the pool, washing the salty sea air off our browned bodies. At noon someone would make the executive decision that it was time to hit the beach and we’d head down to Vedado Beach, sometimes with Dampa in tow on his daily bike ride, and repeat the aforementioned steps. 5 ‘o clock meant girl talk and a glass of wine with Damma by the bay and 7 ‘o clock meant grilling adventures and gossip with Dampa. It was perfection.

Throughout our time in paradise the beachy, conconutty, balmy scent of Hawaiian Tropic sunscreen permeated the air. It followed us to the beach, the pool, on walks, was imbedded into our clothes, and usually ended up infiltrating our suitcases, following us back to Miami of Ohio and Indiana University.

This morning I woke up to sapphire blue skies and temperatures in the 20s. Prior to heading out on my morning hike up the Dillion Nature Preserve, I lathered on some Hawaiian Tropic. Though there were three inches of new snow on the ground and I finished my hike atop the scenic ridgeline of the Dillon Peninsula, not along the beach of the Naples Beach Hotel, I could’ve sworn I was back in Naples, lounging on the sand with my girls.

Cheers from one beach to another!


picture this.

12 Aug

It’s myself, Mercedes, her dog Rome, and Ms. Abbey. It’s finally the “weekend” and we’ve just finished the 4 mile climb up to Willow Falls. The dogs have been watered and had a swim in the pond, us chicks have been fed and are sufficiently pictured out, so we pack up our things and start the trek back down to the cars. The dogs are fairly “good” listeners so we have them off the leash to run about as they please. About a mile down I see a group of people heading our way, so I give shout to reign the pooches back in. 

“No way”, says Mer, stopping dead in her tracks. 

I look up, with a hopeful, yet fleeting thought that perhaps it’s a moose (my size must intimidate them to the point where avoidance is the only answer, as I have yet to see one in person). 

“Is that a bird? On a leash?!”, says Mer in disbelief. 

Low and behold, it was indeed, a bird on a leash! Not just any bird, a talking parrot, on a leash! 


Snow, the parrot, took such a liking to Mercedes that he climbed right onto her shoulder, looked her straight in the eye, fluffed up his head feathers, and said “Hello”.

I died. 

Anyway, fabulous hike. Absolutely beautiful and definitely doable for just about anyone. About 900 in vertical, on an otherwise meandering path through a striking pine tree forest. Here are some pics; however per usual, they don’t do the beauty of the scenery justice. 



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