Bill's Flat Irons

Before the day's adventures, my pal and I grabbed coffee at Festive Cup and fueled up at Urban Egg before heading out. Great food and customer service, and the manager actually came out to greet us as well. Very few restaurants I've been to do that. 

The first of a few mountains Drew and I would scale.

Needless to say, the Flatiron mountain in Boulder Colorado is not for the faint of heart, or further those that are not acclimated to lower oxygen levels of higher altitudes. It was a very grueling hour-and-a-half hike, filled with many rest stops even though I consider myself to be in great health. Definitely a three out of five or above on the difficulty rating, but she now, having been to hiking in the Midwest and the East Coast, sort of has me wanting to review my grading scale. After scaling the summit in the rain, we sprinted down the mountain, effectively descending three times faster than the ascent. 8,000 feet. Thirty minutes.

Why do I always do such dangerous photoshoots?

Several thousand feet later, we made it.

Following these antics, we went to see the grave of buffalo bill. The drive was slightly terrifying, as we could see out over the steep valley and towns below. Lookout mountain is where Bill declared his final resting place in 1917, obsessed with the beautiful overlook. I can only imagine the hike he took to get up it back in the day, and remain fortunate that we had a paved (and terrifying) road to drive up (minimal guardrails and all).

There's a reason why Buffalo Bill chose this as his final resting spot.

Following this endeavor, my friend took me to The Thirsty Lion in Denver, which had no shortage of beautiful staff members. Dinner was light and filling, and filled with good conversation (most of it being wondering what the tattoo on our server's shoulder was). After a long weekend, we rewarded ourselves by crunching down a few beers. Although not an ideal weekend, it was still saved by the day's adventures.