Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column with the sunroof open, windows down and half our body hanging out the car, screaming at surprised passsersby about the glory of it all.Can we get a little “Woo-woo!”? Can we get a little “My, oh, my!”? Can we get a little “Hell, yeah!”?We thought so.Don’t know about our dear readers, but all this sunshine has got us jacked like the preschoolers whose sippy cups we filled with Jolt Cola earlier today. (Well, they looked sleepy to us; we thought we were just helping them pay attention at story-time.)Yes, friends, while spring may already be afoot elsewhere in this great nation, the vernal dawn has just crept up from the horizon here in Summit Up Land. Driving about the county today (because we came up with every excuse possible as to why we couldn’t be cloistered in the office), we couldn’t help but turn the radio up, and we think the local DJs must have been feeling it, too, because they were blasting “Beast of Burden” and had little Stevie Winwood wailing about gettin’ some lovin’.These sunbeams thawing out our skin seem to be 100 percent, all-natural glory. Take a whiff of that breeze: Smells like promise and opportunity to us (but it could be the landfill; we can’t always trust our nose). And if you listen closely, you might even hear a songbird, telling his pals the coast is clear, time to come out and play.Speaking of which, let’s get this over with so we can all get outside …
***Wildernest part-timer Ruth Drew wants us to send out an Angel Alert!! Angel Alert!! to the guy who saved several people from sliding into the I-70 median ditch, getting rear-ended and possibly worse.Ruth was driving from Frisco to Silverthorne Sunday night, noticing that the roads were getting prettty slick. Just after the overlook, she sees a man standing alongside the interstate frantically waving his hands. At first, Ruth thought he needed help but then she, and lots of others, realized he was telling them they better slow down. Because, around the corrner, they found a parking lot of cars with brake lights blazing, cars flying into the ditch and chaos everywhere.”It was like driving on an ice rink,” she wrote.The man’s warning, and Ruth’s heeding it by slowing down to a crawl, helped her narrowly escape a possible unwelcome meeting with a jackknifing semi, too.”I thought I’d share my experience as I imagine others would like to thank this angel, arm-waving man, too,” she summarized.Here’s some cherub wings and fresh set of karmically studded tires for that guy.
***Here’s another Angel Alert!! Angel Alert!!The Long family (origin: somewhere in the Midwest) was out for the week. They were driving around trying to get a family picture with Buffalo Mountain in the background. To their surprise, a passing car stopped, and a woman came over, offering to take the picture for them so the whole fam could get in the frame.Cathy, a ResortQuest employee, not only took their picture (stopping on her way home from work), but gave dinner recommendations and told the family if they really liked the scenery, they need to come visit in the summer.”She was awesome,” Mrs. Long said. “It really made a nice end to our week. And we’ll be back this summer.”Bonus karma points for Cathy. Let’s hope her boss reads this, too.***
We unintentionally made Valerie sick to her stomach. She’s our field agent in Atlanta in charge of sweet tea and boiled peanuts, and when she read Tuesday’s column about how the average American spends 100 hours a year commuting to work, she felt compelled to do a little math:”Where’s the Pepto? I’m sick at my stomach. I’d love to spend only 100 hours a year commuting to work. Unfortunately, I actually did the math after reading today’s column. At 45 minutes each way, 5 days a week, minus my time off, I have the lovely prize behind door number 2 of 360 hours of commute time per year. Totally sickening.”Don’t feel too sorry for her, though. She was out making sick powder turns at Keystone on Sunday, with the runs all to herself while the blizzard kept the Denver hordes at bay.***It is, after all, Thursday, ladies and gents. That means … something … to somebody. Let us know if it’s you at email@example.com, fax at (970) 668-0755 or just read us that philosophy paper on nihilism on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237.We’re out watching the mountain world reawaken from its slumber …
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