"Splat - 7a"

Resolution #7: Do Something I've Never Done Before.

I found myself in a Breckinridge Mountain Mansion recently. And I will do a little bragging...that is not the thing I have never done before:) After a night of drink and dance party, most people went skiing and snowboarding the next day. I decided to go for a day of sledding, snow angels, and other snow play things. However there was one snow activity that I was not expecting to go down.

That activity was jumping into a giant snow pile from the balcony.  It is like jumping from a high dive, but scarier. So we will call this activity the "snow dive." Please note, this does not entail diving head first. This entails more of the toothpick move. Or as you will see in my case, the belly buster.

I watched several guys do some "snow dives." I was even intrigued enough to peek precariously over the edge. That is when the taunting-coaxing started.

"Come on Emily. You can do it. When you land, it is really soft. You fall into the snow."

That talk got me here:

Once I got onto the ledge. I knew I was going to have jump. The thoughts of my temporary paintball nut sack came back to me again. I tried to start chanting manly mantras. "Don't be a wimp. Just jump. Put your big girl panties on."

Then more taunting from the boys below, and the people all around me:

I knew it was time. I think I only had to count to 3 a few times. Then it was 1,2,.3.............

SPLAT!!!!!!!!

After I splatted, I did a little bounce and splatted again.The first thing I said upon bully bustering onto the snow bank was, "You lied, you said this would be soft." Their response was that I was either too light or landed on the one spot that wasn't soft. I am going to go with the light remark. 

I was not deterred for very long:

In fact, I did it again. And this time I tried more of that tooth pick move:

This landing was more graceful, but it was not 100%. I still landed so that my face went down into the snow knocking a ton of snow up my nose into my face.

Jumping off a balcony, may have been a small feat. But it got me thinking of what else I can do. Maybe I will be even be able to jump out of a plane in the 2011 year. So lets just end this blog by saying that I completed 7a on my list this year. Now how many more letters can I add to that 7.

Buzz Talk with Emily- Silver Plume

I take you to a new section of my blog. This section will be better known as, "Buzz talk with Emily. "

If you know me, you know I like to ramble. If I have a few brewskys, I am going to ramble a little more.  As you recall from my last blog (if you don't recall, please read blog below), I was recently in the mining ghost town, Silver Plume. And I was determined to spot a ghost.

My last blog may not have emphasized that I was 100% sure that I had caught a ghost on my camera. Little did I know, one of my friends texted my conversation to another friend; and hence we now have buzzed talk with Emily:

Emily: This is not normal ghostalacial current, Micah......There are no sparks flying like this.....OMG there are like 5 people here (pointing to picture).......See there she is.......And the guy.....

Micah: Emily your fly is down.

And there you have it, buzz talk with Emily.

Stay tuned for another conversation, but until then I will leave you with one last picture. This is a picture of the the hotel we stayed in. But this is from its glory days, back in the early 1900s....when it was not abandoned.....and when there were no ghostalacial currents.

Ghost Hunting in Silver Plume, Co

Colorado, home to the Wild, Wild West.  Home to old silver and gold mines. And more importantly home to old wild, wild west , silver-mining ghosts! Last Friday I was headed to one of these old mining towns. An old Silver Mining town named Silver Plume. I was determined to see a ghost. A real ghost. Up close and personal. Sauntering towards me as scary music played in my head. Or even better if the piano started going. Maybe even the ghost could creepily cry out, "Tuuuurrrrrnnnn baccckkkkkk......oooooohhhhhhhhh."

Silver Plume is very small. It consists of 1 main street, chockered full of Victorian buildings. The town's nickname is actually the "living ghost town!" The building we were staying in was the New Windsor Hotel.

The building is now privately owned. It consists of a private residence and an abandoned hotel. The front door on the left (bottom left corner) was our residence.  Everything else was the ghost's domain....mwah haha!

The abandoned hotel is still decorated just as it had been back in 1902.  Creepy Parlor. Creepy Piano. Aged yellowing portraits.....all untouched!!!! The owner doesn't let anyone in this portion, and from the looks of it, he doesn't really go in there himself either. I just knew there had to be a ghost lurking through this hotel somewhere.

When we got there we went into our little residence, and got to know it a little better. We took a "tour" and stopped to get creeped out about the teeny tiny door that separated us from the rest of the hotel.

After being creeped out a bit, and slightly pumped to be freaked out. It was time for a shot ski!

 

After the shot ski, the group headed down the tiny main street to the Silver Plume Saloon. But before we could get there, we had to pass buildings like the Silver Plume Jail, circa de 1875.

                            

The jail would be a good place to look for ghosts a little later, but 1st it was time to enjoy the saloon!

This is one of my most favoritest bars ever! It was more than just a tiny little bar in a tiny little town. It was a bar with a good feeling, great owner, and great bartenders who could tell you all the ghost stories. It was also a bar that let dogs play inside. But the best part.....the very best part, was what was waiting in the back room of the bar. At first the back of the bar looks off limits, but it is not. There is an array of musical instruments to play and jam with. That night I played the drums, bass, tambourine, and the bongos.  Let's recap, 1.) Nice owner/bartenders who know ghost stories. 2.) Dogs allowed inside. 3.) Room for spontaneous jam sessions. 4.) And yes, of course, there was booze- PBR in a can to be exact. So if you are not thinking at this moment...........that you kind of want to visit this dive bar in Silver Plume.....well you may want to ask yourself are we really that great of friends?;)

Now after a few ghost stories. It is time for the spooky walk home. I do a quick ghost face practice.

Then it is time to check the old jail for ghost spirits. Even time to take a peek inside.

When we got to the house there was a fog over the front. I went up to the hotel side window and took pictures up the stair case to catch a ghost. I think I saw a ghost.......Do you?

 CREEPY WALK TO  THE HOTELCREEPY FOG OVER THE HOTEL AND.....


 POSSIBLE CREEPY GHOST FACE!!!!!

This will not be the last of my ghost hunting adventures!!!!!

Big Air in the Big City

Big Air came to the city this year. It was a 2-day international ski and snowboard competition held in the civic park downtown just yards away from the state capitol and just days before the X-Games. I went to the event on the second day to watch snowboarders gain world cup points while flying down a ramp that stood 101 feet high, 300 feet long, and 80 feet wide.

The weather was freezing, but there was wine. Not only did we get to see some sweet moves, but One Republic played in front of the Denver City and County Building. It was nice to hear some of my favorite songs from them.

Laura, Me, Jill

The night was great, but once our hands and feet started to feel numb it was time to go home. Since we live close to downtown, we headed towards the free mall ride shuttle on 16th Street. Once we hopped on the bus, we went for the empty seats. First Jill, then Laura, then me. Once my ass hit the seat, it started to feel damp. At first I thought it was just the feeling of sensation returning since it was so cold....but....I realized very shortly after that my ass was actually becoming damp. I jumped up from the seat. "Oh my god, I think my seat is wet. I think it's pee, bum pee." My seat neighbors smelled it. Told me it couldn't be pee, that it smelled fruity or like soda. As soon as we get home, I ripped my pants off. I had to smell it for myself. Was it really soda? As my nose got nearer to my jeans, I knew that my jeans now smelled distinctly of urine. I flipped out and made a mad dash for the shower. After a great night, I happened to sit my ass in the one seat on the bus that was soaked in bum urine.