► Photograph of the week:
Picture below was taken during the summer's first sunset:
► Non-skiing recap of the week (part I of II):
As I alluded above, softball season is back, and contrary to last year's all male squad, I'm joined this summer by a fierce group of girls ready to sub in for Anna Benson. We lost 14-8, but the Rickey Henderson was proud of the 1-for-2 performance while scoring a run and keeping the slugging percentage at a lofty 1.000 ... in other words, things are looking up for Rickey.
Thursday loss was celebrated on Friday with drinks at the Rio. Half the team was there along with Fez, Mike, and company. Given the rather rare hard week I had at work (I normally don't bitch about it so bare with me), I made it a mission to exceed the 3 margarita limit at the Rio. That should clue you in as to how strong these drinks are. That's not 3 per hour - that's 3 for the entire evening. Now, there are ways around this. One is to have your three margs upstairs before transitioning downstairs for what can become a clean sheet and your entitlement to another three margs if you so choose to. Well I didn't choose to get around the system ... I just did, and my friends surely helped.
I had 5 margaritas that Friday night, each with about 3 shots worth of tequila (or so I'm told). Of course, that wasn't enough and our group of ten decided to make a liquor store run and occupy ourselves each with a 200mL bottle of booze to sneak into Red Rocks for the showing of Fight Club. We didn't have to do this, but like Tyler Durden, we needed it.
Getting home was a fucking nightmare for me. I lose my friends while taking a piss. I call my girlfriend asking for help which she couldn't. I eventually find Fez (yes, we call the only South American kid in our group Fez ... interestingly enough, his flirtatious motives are strikingly similar).
So now it's me, Fez, Mike, and Mike's girlfriend driving home to Denver. I'm the only one who's been living in the state for longer than a week. Do we now sense a bit of a problem? Me + 15 shots of tequila + 4 shots of Southern Comfort in 5 hours = anottasoooogoood.
What is normally a thirty minute car ride back ended up being an hour. We first went the wrong way on Morrison Road. Then the wrong way down C-470. Then the wrong way down Sante Fe Drive. Eventually, we made it back and was in bed at 1:30 AM just in time for 4.5 hours of beauty rest before a ski trip to Sundance Mountain in Rocky Mountain National Park the next day.
► Song of the week:
Chemical Brothers - "Boxer"
► Skiing recap of the week (part I of II):
No fucking clue how, but I got up Saturday morning on less than 5 hours of sleep and nearly twenty drinks polluting my body. Like I said, it was a ROUGH week ... a rough week successfully managed in which I solidified my position at work in such a way that I could come in an hour late every day for the next few months, and no one would do so much as look twice at me.
Forrest stops by my place just before 6:30 AM to pick me up and we're on our way towards RMNP. The two-hour drive isn't all that bad and somehow, I haven't puked which is always a plus in my book.
This is a Google image of Sundance Mountain with the red line being the ascent, blue being descent, and yellow as the traverse across:
And now the views from the summit:
This is Forrest getting his money's worth:
Forrest and his buddy scoping the line:
The guy with the funky sunglasses and hippy skis airs off the cornice:
Now it's my turn:
We ended up skiing about 1,000 vertical feet before reaching a talus field that forced us to hike back out. The climb up was about 600 feet and took 45 to 60 minutes to complete. Total roundtrip time was roughly 2.5-3 hours. Not a bad day's work.
This was the exit:
It was a great day to be out skiing on the first day of summer. There was no wind, hardly any clouds, and perfect temperatures. The company couldn't be beat, and we all skied something that we haven't done previously.
► Non-skiing recap of the week (part II of II):
After skiing, we drove around the area taking in the views and scoping potential future lines. By the time I got back to Denver, it was nearing 4 PM. I would be attending a dinner to benefit TAPS along with several co-workers in two hours which meant no time to catch up on sleep. The event itself was quite emotional as you can guess. My firm was one of the top sponsors so I felt a more significant attachment to the speakers than otherwise.
Before dinner, there was a silent auction with various sporting goods for sale along with rounds of golf and a $250 basket of white athletic socks.
Let me say that again, up for auction was a $250 basket of white athletic socks.
(You just can't make this shit up.)
Regardless, I was happy to be attendance and witness some powerful stories involving those that risk their lives fighting for this country on their own terms because they feel strongly supportive about it.
Gary Morris of "The Wind Beneath My Wings" fame was the host and was taken by surprise when one of the speakers offered to him a dog tag commemorating his two lost sons. Here he is on stage to the far left negotiating an $11,000 bid for a one-of-a-kind bronze sculpture:
► Skiing recap of the week (part II of II):
Sunday, Nick picked me up and we made our way towards Bear Lake Trailhead in RMNP for my second day of skiing over the weekend as we would ascend up towards Ptarmigan Point via Flattop Mountain. We were supposed to be there by 5 AM, but had a bit of a delay and arrive shortly after 5:30. There, we met up with Joe and were soon on our way to ski the face pictured below:
The hike up was 4 miles long and took us 3 hours to complete.
Here's me and Joe nearing treeline:
What it looked like at the top:
Joe and Nick at the top of Ptarmigan Point overlooking a half-frozen Lake Helene:
Cornering all sections of the snow and preventing us from entering were cornices that looked like this:
After spotting from the north and the south of the area, we finally found an entrance suitable and safe to enter into. Here's Joe skiing the ridge before turning left to dodge a wet slide that he had caused:
To give reference to the excitement over our heads, look at Nick entering in the top 50-degree section of the chute:
Nick making a strong turn in the middle:
And status quo near the bottom:
Now I try my best to emulate:
And so does Joe:
A look back at what we did:
So my pack broke on the way up towards the summit preventing me from having any kind of stable ski setup for the hike out. Along the 4.5-mile slog, I tried more than several ways of holding the skis together while allowing me to efficiently hike back to the car with relative ease. This didn't really happen, and the hike quickly turned into a nightmare. You might think I'm exaggerating ... I'm not.
So clearly I don't look too terribly happy in that picture, but let me state that it was a fantastic day to be skiing. Sure the hike out was nothing short of miserable, but that's the small price to pay for being in a rather desolate area of the park with a not too definitive way out.
► Quote of the week:
"Whenever I see an old lady slip and fall on a wet sidewalk, my first instinct is to laugh. But then I think, what if I was an ant, and she fell on me. Then it wouldn't seem quite so funny."
- Jack Handey
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