News
ENLARGE
Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world's only column recovering from an injury we pray isn't too serious.
An inch of snow fell upon lovely Copper Mountain last Friday, and we hopped on the bus to sneak in a few quick runs before work.
There was some mighty fine soft stuff up there in the Union Meadows and the trees below.
We rocked the mountain for a while then made a beeline for the base area to catch the bus.
Beelining through the glades is foolish. We hit a small lodgepole at an obscene rate of speed and found ourselves muttering gibberish while wincing in pain.
The body was wrapped neatly around the tree, and it took some hip moves to get out of the hole.
Fortunately we had an editor on the scene who went for help as we shook off the pain and sucked it up.
Kudos to Bob, Mark and Justin with Copper Mountain Ski Patrol.
Bob and Mark efficiently loaded us into the sled, and we appreciate their efforts to persuade us to seek immediate medical attention.
***
We've got a Scum Alert!! Scum Alert!!
Somebody stole the fire-engine-red Radio Flyer wagon from Crepes a la Cart in Breckenridge.
The folks from the cart say they'll offer a hug, a song and a free crepe for the wagon's safe return.
“We won't punch the person in the face,” said one of the cart operators.
The wagon can be recognized by a few dents in its side
***
All right, folks, we know the recession and high unemployment rates have made you a bit desperate, but come on.
Wagons don't go for much on the black market, so why risk jail time by stealing one from Summit County's favorite crepe stand?
This is just speculation, but we'd bet somebody had way too much to drink at one of the town's umpteen bars.
That person was likely put in the wagon by a thoughtful friend to make the trip home a bit more manageable. Surely they'll have the decency to return it.
Otherwise, curses to whoever stole it.
***
Anywho, since the turn of the century we've become intimately involved with the use of electronic mail for communication.
As others have developed their web skills, a plethora of “signatures” has emerged.
Signatures are those sign-offs used most frequently by “professionals” who want to make sure everyone has their name, position, phone number, fax number, mobile number, Twitter feed, blood type, sexual preference, ect.
They set it up to where every outgoing message has all their relevant information tattooed on the bottom.
Some folks have taken it upon themselves to share philosophy and whatnot through their signatures, which is fine.
We think it's kind of silly, but ever the opinionated journalists, we like to know on what side of the ideological spectrum some individuals fall.
But come on, some are a bit silly.
Check this one out (we swear we won't reveal to whom this belongs):
“Only after the last tree has been cut down.
Only after the last river has been poisoned.
Only after the last fish has been caught.
Only then will you find that money cannot be eaten.
— Cree Indian Prophecy”
This kind of stuff is great for impressing people in libraries and coffee shops, or even to talk about with friends over a campfire.
But we check our e-mail when we're at work, you know, trying to get the rent and veterinarian and credit card bills paid.
At this point in the day, we really don't care how worthless some people seem to think the almighty dollar to be.
See how far your fishing skills get you when applying for a mortgage.
Here's another one:
“The Nation behaves well if it treats the natural resources as assets which it must turn over to the next generation increased: and not impaired in value.
— Theodore Roosevelt”
Again, this is more than our brain cares to deal with at work.
We lean more toward these “humorous” ones we found on the Internet:
“There are two kinds of pedestrians — the quick and the dead.”
Yes! Genius!
“Someday we'll look back on all this and plow into a parked car.”
Even better. Everyone can relate to it without feeling like they're being judged for not always recycling!
It's Sunday, and we're recovering from a debilitating leg injury with a jar of Ibuprofen.
An inch of snow fell upon lovely Copper Mountain last Friday, and we hopped on the bus to sneak in a few quick runs before work.
There was some mighty fine soft stuff up there in the Union Meadows and the trees below.
We rocked the mountain for a while then made a beeline for the base area to catch the bus.
Beelining through the glades is foolish. We hit a small lodgepole at an obscene rate of speed and found ourselves muttering gibberish while wincing in pain.
The body was wrapped neatly around the tree, and it took some hip moves to get out of the hole.
Fortunately we had an editor on the scene who went for help as we shook off the pain and sucked it up.
Kudos to Bob, Mark and Justin with Copper Mountain Ski Patrol.
Bob and Mark efficiently loaded us into the sled, and we appreciate their efforts to persuade us to seek immediate medical attention.
***
We've got a Scum Alert!! Scum Alert!!
Somebody stole the fire-engine-red Radio Flyer wagon from Crepes a la Cart in Breckenridge.
The folks from the cart say they'll offer a hug, a song and a free crepe for the wagon's safe return.
“We won't punch the person in the face,” said one of the cart operators.
The wagon can be recognized by a few dents in its side
***
All right, folks, we know the recession and high unemployment rates have made you a bit desperate, but come on.
Wagons don't go for much on the black market, so why risk jail time by stealing one from Summit County's favorite crepe stand?
This is just speculation, but we'd bet somebody had way too much to drink at one of the town's umpteen bars.
That person was likely put in the wagon by a thoughtful friend to make the trip home a bit more manageable. Surely they'll have the decency to return it.
Otherwise, curses to whoever stole it.
***
Anywho, since the turn of the century we've become intimately involved with the use of electronic mail for communication.
As others have developed their web skills, a plethora of “signatures” has emerged.
Signatures are those sign-offs used most frequently by “professionals” who want to make sure everyone has their name, position, phone number, fax number, mobile number, Twitter feed, blood type, sexual preference, ect.
They set it up to where every outgoing message has all their relevant information tattooed on the bottom.
Some folks have taken it upon themselves to share philosophy and whatnot through their signatures, which is fine.
We think it's kind of silly, but ever the opinionated journalists, we like to know on what side of the ideological spectrum some individuals fall.
But come on, some are a bit silly.
Check this one out (we swear we won't reveal to whom this belongs):
“Only after the last tree has been cut down.
Only after the last river has been poisoned.
Only after the last fish has been caught.
Only then will you find that money cannot be eaten.
— Cree Indian Prophecy”
This kind of stuff is great for impressing people in libraries and coffee shops, or even to talk about with friends over a campfire.
But we check our e-mail when we're at work, you know, trying to get the rent and veterinarian and credit card bills paid.
At this point in the day, we really don't care how worthless some people seem to think the almighty dollar to be.
See how far your fishing skills get you when applying for a mortgage.
Here's another one:
“The Nation behaves well if it treats the natural resources as assets which it must turn over to the next generation increased: and not impaired in value.
— Theodore Roosevelt”
Again, this is more than our brain cares to deal with at work.
We lean more toward these “humorous” ones we found on the Internet:
“There are two kinds of pedestrians — the quick and the dead.”
Yes! Genius!
“Someday we'll look back on all this and plow into a parked car.”
Even better. Everyone can relate to it without feeling like they're being judged for not always recycling!
It's Sunday, and we're recovering from a debilitating leg injury with a jar of Ibuprofen.
