So I’ve been back in the states for a couple weeks now. And while I miss the shit out of my German people, the good news is that autumn in Colorado is like a 2 month long orgasm of ridiculously beautiful weather, gorgeous scenery and Denver Broncos football. That’s the real football. Not that European football crap.
Depending on how you look at it, I’ve been either homeless or just a little more itinerant that normal since my return. I gave up my apartment in Denver before I moved to Germany; didn’t really see the point in paying rent in absentia. So upon my return I had to impose the on the kindness of my loving and wonderful parents, whose asess I will publicly kiss for their hospitality.
I spend the weekdays at my Mom’s just outside of Denver so I can go like, work or whatever in Boulder. I spend the weekends up at my Dad’s place in the foothills of Northern Colorado.
Decent setup, but there’s one little problem. My dad is, well, old-fashioned, and doesn’t have TV. That left me in a bit of a no-football-on-Sunday-afternoons predicament that urgently needed a remedy.
Enter The Forks. It’s one of those little establishments one generally only sees in areas I’ll politely describe as rural. The Forks is a gas station/convenience store/restaurant/bar combo that’s about 20 minutes from my Padre’s place in the zero-stoplight town of Livermore. Here’s a link to their website if you’re curious about the place…
From said website…
Surprisingly, it’s an excellent place to take in a football game. Good food, Colorado microbrews on tap, good country folk, and my little dog Big Bear, who you’ve probably met already, is a welcome patron. Oh, and the drive to and from the place ain’t half bad either. So without further pontification, here’s a few pictures from last Sunday’s outing to watch Peyton and Co.
Oh boy. Oh boy. Oh boy. A car ride. Oh boy.
The view from the sun deck at The Forks. That’s like 75% of the town of Livermore right there.
Sunshine and blue skies. County Road 76. Somewhere between The Forks and the old man’s place.
Excuse me, Barkeep?
Pretty Drive. Somewhere along CR 76 again…
Are you my mother?
And finally, some bails of hay on the way home…
If you ever find yourself in the area, stop in for a beer and say hello.
Don’t be a stranger.
Well, just a shade under 2 months after publishing the first half of this post, it’s time to finish it off.
Let’s see, since we talked last I spent a few days in Oregon, they sent me back to Germany, to England, and to the Czech Republic, I went on a little weekend trip to Switzerland, came back to the states and was sent to West Virginia, and now I’m actually back “home.” For a week. Off to China a week from today.
The bad news is that with such a ridiculous schedule, the blog’s been a little, well, impotent recently. The good news is that I have a whole boatload of pictures and stories and shit which I’ll share with you until I once again get sent out and about. But, once again, I digress.
Before I was so rudely interrupted by like, life, I was showing you around the back roads of Roosevelt National Forrest in northern Colorado. Here’s the rest of the pictures from the little off-roading and hiking day-trip I took with my dog… Enjoy.
And here we are. Creedmore Lake.
I got the stick out of the water.
I brought it out of the water.
Damnit. If you take my stick and throw it in the lake one more time, I swear to God….
Big Bear and I circumnavigated the little guy. A lot longer than it looked.
I could hardly keep up.
What the hell is taking you so long?
I love this picture. Currently the background on my laptop.
Yes please. I want to camp here.
It appears that there’s a storm a-brewin’. We best be taking off.
And finally, a bunch of Columbines on our way home. The state flower for Colorado. The more you know…
Well, that’s all she… I… wrote for today. Come back soon. We’ve got Denver and the Pacific Northwest on the docket…
Don’t be a stranger.
While I was back at home, I decided to take advantage of the gorgeous, summertime-in-the-rocky-mountains weather by going ‘splorin up in the hills around my dad’s place. Roosevelt National Forest is right in his back yard, and makes an excellent place to get away. Conveniently located about 50 miles from Rocky Mountain National Park, which conveniently attracts most of the tourists and campers and shit, the area is a pristine, quiet little nook of the mountains that makes for a good place to go for a drive.
So, I threw my dog and the camera in the old Toyota Tacoma and hit the road. Our destination was the little town of Red Feather lakes. But, as they say, whoever the hell they are, the journey is often more important than the destination itself. And this is made even more accurate by the fact that I changed my mind, and thus the destination, about halfway through the trip…
But I digress, let’s go 4-wheeling.
Welp, let’s go for a drive.
Ah yes, the thriving intersection of County Road 82E and Coyote Holler Way.
Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. I love me some car rides.
Seriously? A neighborhood watch? Doesn’t that, by definition, require neighbors? Who the shit is watching?
I think this might just be the most aptly names road on the planet.
I love driving around out here.
Mind them cattle…
Big Bear likes the view. But I bet we can do better.
Sweet mall guys.
Big Bear and I weren’t horribly impressed with Red Feather Lakes, so we’re headed off to find something better.
Wildflowers are awfully pretty this time of year…
Road down to the lake. Place is sort of by invitation only. And by ‘invitation’ I do mean like actual 4×4 vehicle. Your Lexus crossover need not apply….
And here we are. Creedmore Lakes. One of my favorite spots in this neck of the woods.
Come back soon for pictures of the final destination: Creedmore Lakes.
Don’t be a stranger.