Monday, June 18, 2012

Summer weekends are for small adventures. Small in distance and scope, large in intensity and wonderfulness. 

This weekend's adventure included a drive to Nederland, a little town just outside of Boulder. To get there, you take Canyon all the way back into the mountains until your drive is interrupted by a main street populated with a few particularly Colorado looking buildings. 

We wandered for a bit.

Climbed some rocks.

Then found a reservoir where I stripped down entirely and found my way into the freezing water. What is summer for if not spending some naked time in bodies of water?

When it began to rain, we found our way back into town, and when the storm passed, we found our way onto Pearl Street where we made some purchases at Boulder Bookstore, as usual, then sat around watching people. I've been promising R I would try oysters for awhile now, so after some sips of Blanton's from the flask in my purse, we went to Boulder Cafe where I tried my first oyster. It was an experience like no other. My lack of belief that it would alter me chemically only seemed to enhance that chemical alteration, leaving me in a state of unexpected but incredibly relaxed bliss. We decided to hop around to different restaurants for appetizers instead of having a sit down dinner. The pork belly at Centro was my favorite.

After an ice cream cone, we walked to Norlin Quad with our sleeping bag where we spent some more time with the Blanton's while watching the shooting stars & satellites overhead. Who knew one could enjoy such a dark and vast space in the middle of a decently sized city? You have to really work to find an unattractive place in Boulder. 
The following day was 95 degrees, and therefore spent at Boulder Creek, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite places in Colorado. We sat on a rock in the middle of the creek, took turns jumping in, going under, then resurfacing to dry ourselves on the rock. Swung off of the tree rope into the deepest part of the creek before heading home. 

Drove down 93 later in the early evening. 

Then drove back to Boulder in the middle of the night, the only car on the road, listening to my developing summer mix and watching the stars. I mean the road. I mean the stars.

That wind is calling my name 
And I won't wait 
Or I'll never get on

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