Summit Up |

Summit Up

Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column embracing the change of season – even if it does mean getting our tongue stuck on the frosty pole.

Yes, dear readers, as Mr. Dylan is oft-quoted as saying, the times they are a-changin’. We’re talking about fall, which if you were up Thursday morning bright and early like us, you know is nigh upon us. The days are getting shorter, the night’s coming earlier and colder, and as we discovered, if you leave a beverage in the cup holder overnight, odds are it will be frozen in the morning.

But we shall not cower. True, we’re having a great summer, and it seems as though there are so many things left to do, so many warm-weather activities we just haven’t gotten around to yet. That crisp morning air, the leaves turning and the promise of big piles of white fluffy stuff are what we live for to be honest.

So, we greet the changing season as our high school football coach did. “Boys,” he used to tell us, “there’s frost on the pumpkin.”

As 16-year-olds, we had very little clue as to what this meant. In fact, we weren’t sure if it was good, or if we should start mentally preparing ourselves for a healthy berating and lots of running. This was par for the course (if we can mix a few sports metaphors), as he also used to say stuff like, “You can’t milk a camel!” and “I want you to hit him like a rolling ball of knives,” which, although it sounds like something you should do in football, as a simile is actually quite hard to envision, much less replicate.

For those of you who are torn between seasonal loyalties at this point in the year, we suggest you make like our fabled coach the next time someone brings up the weather in conversation. If the guy on the bus next to you starts talking about the fog on the lake in the morning or how his pansies are wilting, just tell him, “Hey, there’s frost on the pumpkin.”


Yay! Our attempts at becoming the next Chuck Woolery might not be dashed after all. Not too long ago, we wrote a column trying to help Troy Gordon get a date. Troy’s a manly yet sophisticated type who was hoping we could hook him up (and maybe a friend or two) with the Frisco and Dillon “Flower Girls.” Troy sent us a second letter saying he hadn’t gotten any responses, but lo and behold:

“Good morning. We would like to let everyone know that the Dillon Flower Girls did respond to the first article from Troy – we sent him an e-mail and told him thank you very much for the wonderful comments,” a Flower Girl wrote.

She also added the ladies will send Troy another e-mail and they would let us know how it goes.

Good luck, ladies. Good luck, Troy.

Oh, it feels so good to play Cupid.


The folks at Avalanche Communications sent us a note, rejoicing in the return of a lost dog. This Angel Alert!! Angel Alert!! goes out to Jill.

The AC people were hiking with Missy on Peak One, and Missy took off. They had just about given up hope, they wrote us, when 18 days later Jill found Missy near treeline.

“She was able to coax her down part of the way until she met some other people who actually carried her down the rest of the steep, steep way. An amazing feat in itself since – although she had lost a lot of weight – she is a St. Bernard! Jill got her home and fed her and gave her water and brushed her and loved her until we were able to come pick her up. She is doing amazingly well considering all that she has been through. I don’t think she would have lived much longer if it hadn’t been for these compassionate angels. We want to thank them with all of our hearts.”

And we’ll throw in a wing and halo set to boot.


The password this fine Friday is “power outage.” You’ll know how to use it at, fax at (970) 668-0755 or on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237, assuming the blackout hasn’t hit us yet.

We’re out exfoliating our feet … 

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