Friday notes:
Here we are, 9600 ft above sea level. So far, it has not been nearly as bad as our Tucson AZ experience on Mt. Lemmon a few years ago, and we're well above the elevation where both Doug and I got sick (me at 7500, him at 8000 or so). We were driving on the road to Cripple Creek and we passed a sign that said the elevation was 10,200 and I said, oh wow... I'm not dying and we're that high up?
Doug and I stopped and bought 4 bottles of zero sugar powerade (they didn't have zero sugar gatorade at the store we were at...) and we drank two of them between Denver and Woodland Park, and another before we got to Divide. Have to say that was a great idea. Whatever things are in powerade electrolytes wise, pretty helpful. Back of the hotel from the parking lot. It was the town's first hospital, run by the Sisters of Mercy. History is here. Really cool place.
We got checked in, and promptly came up and took a nap. I didn't feel like death until we were at the hotel for a while. After 3 hours of sleep for me (and Doug thinks he slept 15 minutes) the night before we needed it.
There was an EPIC thunderstorm starting up as we were falling asleep. I thought at first the rumbles were construction equipment because Cripple Creek has a lot of homes being built and stuff being developed. Doug muttered "what is that thunder?" and fell asleep. At about 6pm, I woke up and did my steps, missing the 5pm hour. My head was splitting, and walking around the halls in the hotel my pulse was at about 156. Usually, that's treadmill levels.
Back in the room, I opened the blinds that Doug had lowered since our windows faced west and north. The lightning bolts across the sky were so vivid. And the thunder just went and went. You couldn't tell which rumble went with which flash. Then, it started to hail. Giant rocks of ice, hitting the roof of the hotel (we're on the third floor) and the patio right below us.
I got back in bed and slept-ish until about 7:30. Now, I'm on East Coast time in my heart of hearts so it's 9:30pm in my body. I thought this was a big mistake to nap so long. Doug woke up, we decided to go down to the tavern in the basemen to see about possibly a little something to eat. They don't have a big menu. Soups and some sandwiches. There were two regulars and the owner hanging out at the bar, and we were handed menus, complete with recommendations of who has what, what are we in the mood for, how hungry are we. It was 8:30pm and most of the kitchens closed at 9 except for The District Kitchen. Doug ordered buffalo mac & cheese, I got a strawberry spinach salad with chicken. And we got buffalo wings.
The owner of the hotel/tavern came and hung out with us. We talked until about 11pm with him. All three owners (Aaron, his wife, and his ex-wife) are retired Navy. There's a great story there with how they all get along and how they bought this place about 11 months ago, and it is growing and evolving.
A long time ago Doug told me I have something tattooed to my forehead that only some people can see, and it says "Tell me everything about you. Talk to me." Doug would gladly sit quietly in a bar and be a fly on the wall listening to the stories. But there we are, learning all about his Navy career, where he was stationed, where he grew up, how he got to where he is today owning a hotel/tavern with his ex-wife and his current wife, and yeah.
My friend C's sister has a superpower where when she's talking to someone, she doesn't talk about herself. She asks about them. All about them. Asks all the questions. Listens. That person becomes the center of attention and maybe talks too much about themselves, but, it makes them feel valued in their story. I have been applying that to a lot of discussions with strangers.
Eventually he said "So, what do you guys do? What's your story?"
We filled him in on us and what we do, and this being our anniversary trip, and he and the bartender celebrated us. We hung out until after 11, they close at midnight, and it was a lot of fun.
Saturday, May 31
This morning, I slept "late" until 8:30. Doug had been up a while, and he was quietly drinking coffee and looking at stuff online for to do funs. I went downstairs and grabbed breakfast, and he was all set telling me he had granola bars and mixed nuts. I realized after I ate that I had not done my blood sugar. The owners of the hotel, all 3, were down in the office and that was right by the coffee and breakfast. I asked about getting a massage and the woman said she'd get me in for 11 if that worked.
Doug came down to check on me because I'd been forever down in the little cafe, and I let him know the plan. He thought it sounded great and said he'd go for a walk while I did my massage.
K was delightful, did an excellent job for an hour massage with hot stones and reflex work on my feet. She said that she thinks I have arthritis in my right hip, because where she was pressing that I said it hurt it is basically bone.
She used extra hot stones there.
We talked a lot, at the end she was laughing because most people come to the spa and just do not talk, they yes/no/okay anything she asks them. But she and I were absolutely entrenched in the hotel history, and the characters who made this town back in the day, like Roy Bourquin, the Cripple Creek Pyromaniac. She told me about Stevie Nicks and a family member who ran a brothel. She comes here to visit once in a while to pay her respects. Here's an article I found about it, if you're interested. She even has a song named Imperial Hotel that she wrote with Tom Petty.
I asked K about something I noticed here at the hotel. On tables and counter tops, there are little bowls with a key or two, and 11 cents. What was up with that. She laughed and said there is a superstition about those who have died, who don't know how to get to the next place they're supposed to go to. You leave out a key and some money for them so they can unlock the next phase of their adventure, and have a little money.
"To pay the ferryman?" I asked.
"Maybe." she smiled.
She said when they started renovating this hotel, there were places all through the building where she kept finding eleven cents. So she stuck with that. Pulled up the money hidden behind paneling or under the plumbing.
A morning well spent. Here I am looking relaxed and wilty. But very happy.
When I got back to the room, Doug was resting from his walk about. Coming up the Third Street hill to the hotel is a challenge and a half. So he was resting after his efforts. We decided to go to lunch first and then the Outlaws and Lawmen Jail Museum which is about a half mile walk.
Lunch was at The Creek where we each enjoyed a rather too huge beer and I had a patty melt with coleslaw. Doug had a french dip. After wards we headed to the museum.
It was $5 each for us to get in and a lot of rich history about the town. This was the only jailhouse in all of Teller Country from when it opened in 1901 until 1992 when they closed it down and another one was built.
And we found out how true that was, when a guy and his friends came in. He walked up to the counter and asked if "alumni or former residents get in free."
He was picked up on a California warrant while speeding in Teller County here in1991. He lived as a guest of the County until he could be extradited back to San Diego. Three whole months.
The stories he told. He was hilarious, reminded me of Aaron a lot. Just the way he painted a picture and set up the situation. It was hard not to just tag along with him while he was telling his friend (and I think his girlfriend) his tale. But he was loud enough we could be quite a bit away and still hear him talk.
Said it was the jankiest but nicest jail he's ever had the privilege of being locked up in.
We sat out front on a bench, Doug was really feeling wiped out but we sat and enjoyed about six or so donkeys just walking around a block away from us. Just like Assateague and Chincoteague on the East Coast, there's a roaming herd of four legged friends here. The Two Mile High club takes care of them, and the history is really interesting. There was one donkey who could not be bothered and stood in the middle of Bennett Avenue and cars drove around it. People stopped to take pictures. I thought they were too far away to take a good shot of, so we just watched.
A thunderstorm was kicking up and we watched it roll down from the north. Knowing how far our hotel was, we decided to walk east for as far as we could before the skies opened.
We ended up in front of a casino, and went in to chillax. We both hit the penny slots for quite a bit of money and walked away with $150 dollars that we didn't have that morning. Score.
Now we had to walk up Third street. We turned at the Imperial Hotel, and started walking. I got to the end of the block and had to rest. Then, we crossed the street. I had to rest.
I kept playing this game with myself. "Okay, phone pole. I see you. I see you there, number 50A. I see you. I'm coming to you..." and I would force myself to that phone pole. Then, electrical box. Then, street lamp. Okay yellow thing covering the horizontal wire. Gonna touch you. The hardest six minute walk I've ever done but I did it. And Doug was happy to rest with me at each inanimate object I visited, because he needed a rest too. Here's a shot of the front right before our final push to the top of Mt. Everest and the front porch rocking chairs.
We walked into the hotel lobby, and I found a dish that had a key but no money it it. I asked Doug to put eleven cents in for ... whatever. Humor me. Thankfully he doesn't tell me I'm some sort of moron, and he reached into his pocket for two nickels and a penny.
Upstairs, we napped. Another storm came through and woke us up. We weren't hungry but snacked on mixed nuts and water, and decided to take a ride up to the mine. There's a cool overlook and Doug wanted to check it out.
You've read this far, I am proud of you. I'll save the mine stuff for the next entry. Here are some pictures from Friday that I was too tired to post from Casa Bonita. We weren't taking this stop seriously, but it actually exceeded expectations and we enjoyed ourselves very much. Not bad, South Park Guys. Not bad.
Digits below.
if you know, you know.
digits
exercise: 12/12 hours. Four measured and counted walks because I earned every inch of these efforts. 6 min/.24 mile; 20 min/.39 mile; 12 min/.48 mile; 4 min/.18 mile. 10k+ steps by bedtime
blood glucose:
n/a am: forgot to take a reading when I woke up, then I had coffee and breakfast.
5:30pm: 91
10:30pm: 134
food & meds:
8:30am: phentermine, jardiance
9:15am: burrito bowl w/ egg, black beans, some sort of bacon, shredded cheese. Coffee.
11:30am: met+glip
1:30pm: Patty melt w/ coleslaw. Big Beer
6:30pm: met+glip
8pm: steak salad (it was awful) w/ bleu cheese. bottle of blue moon
9:30pm: beer from the tavern while writing this entry.
