Remember last week when I said, “Oh, yeah, it’s totally fine to slack off and be a lard ass, blah blah blah,” well, now I’m eating my words as well as everything else, apparently, and it’s time to whip my tail into shape, especially with 303’s pool party Numero Dos coming up in two weeks. What with the torrential downpours that conveniently start the second I get off work putting a damper on my motivation to get outside and get some exercise, I decided to head up to my friend Ryan’s place in Breckenridge for some good, clean, mountain fun.
We decided to take it easy Sunday night so we could get up early and have some energy for a Green Mountain Reservoir adventure. We had a very enjoyable dinner at the new restaurant Twist, which is comfort food done a liiiiittle different, and then we headed back to the house and watched an absurd amount of Tosh.0.
The next morning drew the entire household inexplicably into the kitchen at the ungodly hour of 7:30, so Ryan and I decided to take advantage of the many hours of sunlight we had of the morning and head out early to breakfast at Columbine Café. We each ordered the Courtyard Special (eggs, French toast, four pieces of applewood smoked bacon, and hash browns) and coffee (well, I ordered coffee, Ryan apparently ordered half and half) and we ate like we were eating for America. We were chock full of carbs by 10, so we headed out to the reservoir before the rain caught up to us. Ryan borrowed a cruiser bike from his friend for me and we managed to wedge it next to his road bike while we drove out to the water, listening to Pressure, by Alesso.
The rivers were pumping as we drove through Silverthorne and Ryan couldn’t believe how deep the reservoir was. He said the snow was still melting from the mountains so it was only going to get higher. We parked next to the cliffs as the sun was dipping in and out of the clouds. Ryan wanted to jump in the water before our bike ride so we clambered up the rocks to the first ledge in the cliffs where he left me and his towel, then he climbed up to the top of the tallest cliff and out onto the teensiest ledge I ever did see, while I had a heart attack. I decided I would commit to a leap off my cliff, and I did so after Ryan executed a kick ass back flip off the ledge up there. My muscles stopped working after being in the fuh-reezing water, so we grabbed our bikes and started on our ride around the reservoir.
We stopped by the dam and looked down at the trippy waterfall spilling out of the reservoir until the security guard told us to get 100 feet away from it or something, so then we started on the uphill portion of the ride. I haven’t been on a bike since high school, and with the altitude being double what it is down here, it immediately kicked my ass on that little cruiser. My quads and shins and calves burned the whole way up, and by the time the road leveled out I was sweating and about ready to take a break. We pressed on, however, and the chilly breeze was perfect while we zipped around the water, the road curving the entire time and little white fluffer things floating through the air and puffing up against my sunglasses. We rode a couple more miles before we stopped to masturbate and tackle, ‘scuse me, we stopped AT Master Bait and Tackle. (Sheesh!) Then we turned around and headed back to the cliffs, which was a lot more uphill than downhill, this direction. By the time we got back to the cliffs, we were hot, tired, and not regretting our mondo breakfast anymore. We jumped off our cliffs one last time to cool off before we headed back towards Breckenridge, the cold, fresh air blowing down the mountain and straight through our open windows.