Day Off

We didn't take a day off from our adventures today, but I need a day off from the blog. I'll hopefully be back in my usual form tomorrow...

Day of Delights

I'm a sucker for Sunday brunch. Mom and I browsed through the Breckenridge Dining Guide when we arrived last week, and we were both trying to find a place that offered something different for brunch. Looking through the paper the next day, an ad caught my eye. Le Petit Paris Bistrot was scheduled to begin its Sunday brunch service today. Earlier in the week, I stopped by the restaurant and spoke to the owner about the menu, and mom and I quickly decided that we would have to be two of their first patrons.

We started with a basket of fresh baked brioche, croissant, and pain de chocolat. Heaven. Every time I touched my croissant, it seemed to fall into deliciously buttery vellum flakes. I gave my pain de chocolate a kiss of raspberry jam, and closed my eyes as the bitterness of the chocolate mingled with the sweet tartness of the jam in my mouth.

For our main course, mom selected the Eggs Florentine, Benedict style, and fries. The dish was essentially a meatless version of Eggs Benedict, replacing the ham for spinach. She said it was perfect. The fries hardly looked like fries at all. They seemed to be golden thin curls of potato, perhaps made with a vegetable peeler. They were the perfect combination of crisp on the outside and soft on the inside, with just the right amount of salt. I had the Crepe du Jour, which was a crepe filled with mushroom, scallion, and swiss, topped with an olive tapenade. I couldn't pass up those gorgeous "fries" myself. Everything was so beautifully plated, so perfectly made. The crepes were the best I've tasted, and I will say that I've had crepes in Paris. The main course came with our choice of mimosa, sangria, or Bloody Mary. I went with the Bloody Mary, and it, too, was the best I've ever had. It was thick, and the horseradish flecked the deep red with white. It was spicy, too, the heat lingering at the back of my throat. Mom enjoyed her sangria, which she said was not as sweet as some sangrias are, which is exactly as the restaurant's owner intended. She said she wanted the wine to still be present, that "it's not supposed to be punch," and she's right.

So the meal was delicious, but I have to say that the owner may have been the highlight for us. She is absolutely precious, so kind, attentive, sweet. It was clear that she truly wanted us to have a special brunch at her restaurant. I heard her talking to her staff, too, and I could tell that she had a great rapport with them. When we left, she caught us just as we had stepped out of the door. She wanted to be sure that we had found the experience pleasurable and unique. She pressed her hand in mine when I told her that it was wonderful and that she made the best Bloody Mary, and I thought that this is one of those really great people you sometimes have the luck to run into. As mom and I walked to the car, that sweet woman and her wonderful food was all we could talk about.

When we got back to the condo, we prepared the dogs and headed for the car. We decided to spend the rest of the afternoon at the Vail Farmer's Market. It was a lovely day for driving, and the scenery was, as always, stunning. It's rather early in the season for any produce other than cherries, lettuce, and beets, and the prices on the produce at these markets have been exorbitant. But we got to walk around Vail village, people stopping us frequently to fawn over my beautiful dogs (outfitted in bandannas for the occasion). We also saw a lot of fascinating hand crafted items and lovely lawn sculptures that rotated in the breeze. I think I may need something like these in my garden at home. After all, what else is that wretched Michigan wind good for?

It was a good day in the mountains for us, and it ended with the sunset seen from our deck I've posted above. Mom asked what we're doing tomorrow, and I said, "Tomorrow is unwritten. Let's just let it reveal itself to us." And so that's the plan.

Fields of Gold

When I saw the weather report today, my heart sank. Seven consecutive days of thunderstorms stretched across the television screen. The storms for today were due to roll in around 2 pm, so I immediately began shifting my plans. Mom couldn't hike, so the dogs and I left earlier than usual to get some exercise. It was the Gold Hill hike again, largely because it's easy and I never have to worry about getting caught in a storm there. The trees are tightly packed, and I often think it's a relatively safe place to be--certainly safer than a hike above the timberline.

As we started up the first incline, I couldn't free myself of disappointment. I really wanted to try another hike today, but things just didn't seem to be working out. Mom pulled something in her back, so the original plan had to be scrapped. Then the news that we were due for yet another day of rain and storms made me reconsider other options. I walked through the colorful wildflower fields at the lower part of the hike, but I wasn't moved by them. The thunderstorm graphics on the weather channel kept popping up in my mind. In fact, my mood didn't really start to lift until we had to take a break at the swing. Wolfie seemed to be pretty tired, and I was sure that the hike would have to end there again. So I sat on the swing and lamented the demise of my perfect vacation, but the mountains were so pretty that I began to relax.

After Wolfie's breathing slowed, I got up, ready to head back down. I had the dogs on their leashes, and I told Wolfie that he could choose what we would do next. I often do this at home when we start out on a walk, and he actually chooses different routes from one day to the next. When we reached the main trail again, Wolfie made a decisive turn to the left, which took us further up the mountain. That boy always makes the best decisions; this time, his choice took me past vast fields of yellow daisies tucked into the trees, and so he cleared the rest of my clouds.

The rain never did come.

Colorado on the Cheap

Those who know me well know that I tend to be, well, a little cheap. I can spend a fair amount on clothes at Ann Taylor, but spending money on just about anything else makes my stomach muscles tighten. Our mountain exploits today allowed me to keep all muscles relaxed--excepting those required for the minimal hiking.

We knew that we were in for another day of rain. Breckenridge surpassed its average rainfall for the month last week, and while this lessens the potential for fires, it sure does make outdoor adventures a little tricky. We arrived at the Dillon Farmer's Market shortly after it opened in the morning. I wasn't particularly interested in what was offered there; most of it was jewelry vendors. I did, however, get a chance to speak a little German. Two men at a kiosk with a Styria sign were speaking German, and when I walked up, one of them simply said, "Hello." I replied by saying, "Gruess Gott," which is a surefire way of letting an Austrian know that you speak Austrian German. And with that, we were off. So free entertainment for me...I don't know about him.

After that we headed to Dillon Dam Road for a quick scenic hike. I, of course, made one dam joke after another with my mom. I never looked over, but I'm sure she was rolling her eyes. "Don't ask me any dam questions; I'm no dam guide," I insisted. The hike was lovely; wildflowers everywhere again. The top afforded us a different perspective of Lake Dillon. We've already seen it from two vantage points. The first was the Tenderfoot Mountain hike, and the second was the site of Tippy's water adventure. Since the hike was so short, I decided we should get back on the dam road (oops) and head to another easy hike and yet another view of Lake Dillon. It's amazing how many new peaks appear when you take a different perspective.

By the time we finished that ridiculously short walk, I knew that our time in the sun was running short. We drove back into Frisco for a little lunch, and once our carry-out bags were ready, we headed to the car in a torrential downpour. The day seemed to be over.

Back at the condo, we decided that despite the miserable weather, we would drive to Frisco again for a book launch party at the local independent bookstore, The Next Page. When you visit the area, you absolutely must go to this store and pick up something. The staff is friendly and knowledgeable, and the store has a great selection of books and unexpected gifts. The book launch being celebrated was the Junior League of Denver's cookbook, and the owner of the bookstore had the event catered. It featured 10-12 recipes from the cookbook, and it basically became a free and delicious dinner (okay, I did buy a book, but I can never help myself when I go there), and a great stroll around the place. By the time we left, the skies were beautiful again.

Back in Breckenridge, we went downtown to catch a free brass quintet concert from members of the National Repertory Orchestra. We thoroughly enjoyed the 75-minute program, and it really capped off what was a surprisingly perfect day. So maybe even if the storm clouds threaten, I am still capable of working around them. That's good news because we're in for more storms tomorrow...

A Taste of the Good Life

We had to take it easy today; weather and the weariness of my travel buddies made hiking a bad idea. In taking the day off, I think I've discovered something else that Wolfie and I have in common. Wolfie would get up and hike with me no matter how tired or sore, even if it could end up hurting him. He just has to keep moving if I am. But maybe there's one slight difference between the two of us on this point--I just have to keep moving, no matter what Wolfie is doing. Although I enjoyed myself today, I couldn't help noticing a nervous energy building in me. Oh dear, maybe little progress is being made. Maybe hiking all day just keeps my frenetic thoughts at bay, and having to take it easy reveals again how tightly wound I actually am. The news that we're expecting rain again tomorrow nearly put me in panic mode. I don't know what indoor activities can be had here; I've never done any. Hopefully the weatherman is wrong, and we can tamp down my restlessness with a good walk somewhere, but that doesn't necessarily get me further in my journey to a calmer disposition. And so I worry again. I am exactly as advertised in my first post--a first-rate worrier.

We spent part of today just walking around town. Tippy and Wolfie went shopping at one of their favorite stores, The Barkery, but Wolfie seems interested in checking out every store. Who knew my furry son was such a shopper? An open door at any restaurant, too, seemed to be an invitation to him. He was quite popular with the diners, at least. He'd pull me in the direction of a table at the open door, and his new friends would give him a little pat on the head. Little did they know that he had no interest in making their acquaintance and only wanted to make off with their meals. At least he got a taste of our lunch today.

We had lunch at Crepes a la Cart. It's basically a small trailer in the middle of town large enough to hold all necessary ingredients, three crepe griddles, and two workers. In all of the years we've been here, I've never eaten there, even though I've salivated when catching a hint of their wonderful smells floating on the breeze. We decided to get one savory and one sweet and split each. These folks know how to make a good crepe. I have had crepes at what is considered to be the best creperie in London, but they were shockingly greasy. These were the perfect combination of soft and crisp, leaving virtually no butter on the fingers. We started with a white asparagus and hollandaise crepe and finished with a Gateau de St. Honoree, which is a crepe filled with sugar, cinnamon, caramel, and Grand Marnier. That's what you see me seriously gnawing on in the photo. How could I help myself?

Tomorrow is the Farmer's Market in Dillon. Hopefully the sun will break up the storm clouds and give us another sweet day in the mountains.

A Swing with a View

Today's bad news: I nearly killed my mom. The good news: nearly is all the further I got. I wanted to take her on a hike at Gold Hill, which is one of the many trailheads for the Colorado Trail. It's not too far from the condo, short enough to walk to the trailhead, and I normally hike it 3 or 4 times when we come out. It's a familiar hike, and I can choose how far up I want to go. It also usually has some good wildflower fields, so I knew she would enjoy it.

When we started up, we saw several more varieties of wildflowers than I've ever seen there. I wonder if it has something to do with the new habitat in which they find themselves. The area has been hit in the last few years with a beetle infestation that is killing all of the lodge pines, and most of the pines on the lower portion of the trail have been razed. So we started with lots of oohs and "look at that one!" As we continued on, however, the oohs turned to ohs, as in "oh, I think I'm going to die." I'm willing to take my share of the blame on this one. Perhaps I over-estimated her ability. Perhaps she was a little fatigued today from our previous hikes. But the woman was really pushing herself today--trying to walk much faster than necessary, not giving herself long enough rests. I was torn between choosing to head back down and trying to force a slower pace to get her to the spot I wanted to show her. In the end, I coached her up the incline. Hopefully the exertion was worth it for her.

Just off the left side of the trail is a wonderful surprise, but it only reveals itself to the observant hiker. Some wonderful human being once felt it would be a good use of his time and energy to construct a swing made from fallen pine. As far as I'm concerned, his time was put to perfect use. The swing is perched just at the edge of a drop off that leads to a valley of wildflowers. Most of them are yellow, but today I found two lavender columbines tucked away in the midst of the golden daisies and snapdragons. The swing looks out on this valley and the mountains across Hwy 9. While mom was catching her breath on the swing, she counted 18 snow-capped peaks. I think it may have been worth it for her, but it was a little worrying to see her struggle today.

Our trip back down was really easy, as hikes usually are. We sometimes doubt that we can make it to our goal, but when we do, everything else seems so simple. Mom was beating herself up as we neared the bottom, though. She was upset about how long it took her to get to the swing. I don't know if she took what I said to heart, but I felt I was imparting some wisdom to myself: It doesn't matter how long it takes you to get there, just that you get there.

Flower Fields

Today was pretty quiet. We started with beautiful blue skies again, but as we were planning to leave for our hike, storm clouds started rolling in. This area is known for its afternoon thunderstorms in the mountains. Last year, my stepson and I got caught with the dogs in the leading edge of a storm. The hail was a little frightening, especially when we were out on open rocks, so I was a little hesitant about starting up the trail today when the thunder started rumbling. I couldn't imagine what I would do with the dogs, who would certainly protest, if I made the decision to get back into the car, so we started anyway. A few raindrops and an occasionally brisk breeze were the only unpleasant moments in our hike through the wildflower fields and Aspen stands of the Tenderfoot Trail in Dillon.

This is one of my favorite hikes. I haven't found a trail yet that yields such a stunning pallet of wildflowers. Lupines speckle the mountainside with bursts of purple and white, out in the open air. Once inside the trees, I always discover little surprises. Today we found wild roses, stunning cerise flowers peeking out from under fallen branches. I fell in love with a flower tucked in the shade called Purple Fringe. Hundreds of tiny purple flowers cluster around a central spike, and they're accented by little protruding yellow stamens. They look and feel like soft, fuzzy fur.

The flowers are not the only stunning scenery on this hike. Once at the top, we can see the continental divide, and all along the route, we have breathtaking views of Lake Dillon and the Ten-Mile Range. It's a wonderful place to breathe deeply and focus on nothing but what incredible sights nature might drop right in front of me.