Andy and the Weekend that was Last Weekend

Retrieved Andy at the airport Thursday night, one of the last flights in. Friday arrived, earlier for some of us than others, with better weather than threatened — no hard freeze overnight, and clear blue skies and the promise of '60s for the day. Mon was working, but Andy and I discussed the plans over breakfast outside at Tune-Up. It was too nice and too yellow to not head up the mountain, the only question was, "to do what?" Hike, stroll Aspen Vista, ride the ski lift? Andy opted for the latter. And, once there, suggested we just buy the one-way ticket.



Ride was start and stop, probably almost 20 minutes to the summit (11,250', not the 12,075' mistakenly identified below; that came later). Where it was plenty cold and windy.



A few photos, some binocular viewing, and, though we were layered up, had to get moving. Andy pointed up to the adjoining peak with the cell phone towers, and off we went. Those thousand or so feet took us a while, stopping to admire the view, watch the controlled burn, and trying to breathe.



But at the top, felt good enough to walk the ridge and find another way down. The return path might've been even tougher, loose rocks and a steep slope making for some extra-cautious going, with the destination in view, seemingly so close.... About three hours out total, chili dogs at the grill at the base area. And, on the drive down, a short stop off to soak out some of the soreness at Ten Thousand Waves.

That evening, after some resting up, out to High Mayhem for Tim's gallery opening.



Stuck around to watch some Cake In Ya Face, then off to Lan's for a big dinner. Which left us all too logy to continue on to Cowgirl to catch Joe West — so back home for some of the long-awaited Middleman DVD that Andy brought us.

Saturday, all dragged ourselves out for a walk in the cool autumn morning with the dog who, while pretty well-behaved, had clearly not been herself with the stitches that needing biting and the scrapes that needed licking and the subsequent necessity of wearing a muzzle and/or shirt most of the time. Eased into the morning from there, then set out, beginning with a walk through the Farmers Market to Flying Star for a big breakfast, then driving off to Puye for a tour of the cliff dwellings.



The site recently re-opened and it now requires a guided tour. The fee is a bit steep (as is the paved path up), but if it goes toward the further restoration of the site and expansion of the tours, it'll be worth it — as our guide noted, "we don't want to be Bandelier." Gone are their Harvey days of "free-range tourism," in their place, a short but interesting overview (both kinds) and a look at some amazingly preserved ruins and petroglyphs.



Returned for an early start to our last grill of the season. Fired up the pit early on, as it cooled once we were in the shade, and continued out there into the night for cigars and dinner and s'mores (some made with the chocolate cookies Mon had baked … mmmmm).



Stopped by Counter Culture on our way out Sunday morning for the egregiously large cinnamon bun and breakfast, then off to the airport. Returning, Mon and I were able to swing by the Harwood for the tail end of the 24 Hour Comics Day event there to see what everyone had been up to and help clean. Like we did, you can follow the activity from the blog and the Flickr site.

Because she'd been so good and long-suffering, an extra-long walk with Cheyenne that evening.