Back from a few lovely days in the mountains of Colorado. While temperatures in the lower altitudes (lower meaning only 5000 feet or so) sweltered, up at a rarified 8100 feet it was hot but not too much so, dry and sunny.
I don't have much to report on culinarily, except that, boy, do they take their beef seriously. Beef beef beef, steak steak steak, burgers a-go-go. Lots of nervous cows.
And golf. My father is an avid golfer, as is his entire social circle. (That many are doctors is, I am sure, purely coincidence.) Neither DPaul nor I are golfers, for that matter have never picked up a club. So they tend to tell stories (there are a lot of golf stories...and jokes) that use an entire lexicon foreign to us. We smiled and nodded a lot.
But among the highlights was the drive from Ft. Collins up to Red Feather Lakes, where the ceremony was held. We took an alternate route up, driving up the Poudre River canyon, then cutting north on dirt roads up to Red Feather. These roads were broad and well-maintained, not at all rough and ready as we had expected, but they lent a great sensation of remoteness and unspoiled beauty to the drive.
A small diversion took us to the Shambhala Center and the Great Stupa. This 108-foot structure stands majestically on a plateau overlooking a broad vale in the height of the Colorado Rockies. It's grand, colorful, exuberant yet serene. A delightful find out in the middle of nowhere.
We took the same back roads leaving Red Feather, through pine and aspen forests and occasionally dramatic, narrow canyons. DPaul and I are always game for a good road trip, and this area qualifies as a very good drive indeed.