When I think of a vacation, the words "restful" and "relaxation" come to mind. Naturally, being a do-er, when Manfriend thinks of a vacation, descriptions such as "active" and "adventure" are ones he will likely use. Even with these different perspectives on vacations, Manfriend and I were equally ecstatic when we were invited on a Colorado rafting trip with his best friend from high school, his wife, and another couple. I had been tubing on the Niobrara with my girlfriends before. We floated leisurely down the river, cool drinks in hand, catching up on each other's lives. And Colorado! What's more relaxing and restful than beautiful, scenic, natural Colorado? Answer: Not going to Colorado with Manfriend and his merry band of do-ery friends.
When we first arrived at our condo, the guys decided that they were going to golf. Having been hiding my white, pale body in work clothes for the past ten months, I decided that I was going to transform my fair complexion to a more sun kissed look. Fortunately for me, our condo had an outdoor pool and my new friends, the wives, agreed with me that the pool sounded like a fine time.
I spent a blissful 45 minutes floating on a reflective pool of water, in the mountains, literally inches from the sun. During this short period of time, I managed to scorch my skin to the point where I was no longer recognizable. The best part about my third degree burn was that it was only in some spots. An even burn would have been too much to ask. Apparently, the sunscreen was effective at battling the sun's harmful rays, however, for it to completely protect one it must be applied with great care and not sprayed willy nilly in one's general direction.
Correct Application of Sunscreen
|One should use about a shot glass of SPF 15 or higher. Apply by patting the sunblock into the skin approximately 30 minutes before exposing your white body to the flesh burning sun rays. Reapply every couple hours.|
Sunscreen Sprayed Willy Nilly = Wrong
|This will not protect you from the sun's deathly rays. You will most certainly get cancer and premature wrinkles.|
We rented bikes from the local bike shop, got fitted for helmets and rode the enclosed ski lifts up the mountain. Manfriend is wise so he asked the ski lift operator which trails we should go down.
|Apparently Manfriend thinks that while in Colorado, he should say "Dude" and "Man." I don't really think "Dude" is appropriate in any location, but whatever, Manfriend. You just say Dude if you're so inclined.|
Okay, let's refresh. This is what the ski lift operator said.
And this is what Manfriend heard.
And most importantly, this is what the ski lift operator actually meant.
The trail was called the Black Mamba. In case you are not aware a Black Mamba is the most deadly snake in the world. Relaxing beginner trails are not named after the deadliest snake in the world. They would have names such as the Fluffy Bunny or something. Black Mamba, psthhh.
When I wasn't coming down the mountain, Manfriend knew something was wrong.
When he saw me coming his fears were confirmed.
Fortunately, one of my new friends recognized that the tear trail down my dusty cheeks was a sign that I would not enjoy continuing to fly down the mountain upon a bicycle by way of the Black Mamba. Who does that anyway?!? Hey guys, let's rent these bikes and hurl our fragile bodies down this ginormous mountain made of jagged rocks and sharp, pokey trees at 100 miles per hour! I suppose someone who says "Dude" would. Someone who says dude or maybe a do-er. Manfriend and friends were both. Thankfully, New Friend volunteered to change routes and accompany me down the mountain. We took the Fuzzy Caterpillar down the rest of the way and it was truly beautiful. I thoroughly enjoyed it.
When it was time to turn in the bikes, Manfriend was absent. Manfriend's high school buddy informed us that Manfriend popped a tire upon one of those life threatening jagged rocks and was carrying his bike down the mountain. When High School Buddy volunteered to walk with him, Manfriend turned him away. Manfriend is very manly like that.
The grand finale of our relaxing Colorado trip was, of course, a white water rafting excursion.
I managed to not get trapped under anything until I couldn't breath. My lungs did not fill with water. Definite plus. In fact, after all of these life threatening activities, when our guide asked us if anyone wanted to jump off a giant cliff into the rapids below, I had officially lost my mind and raised my hand in the air, volunteering like a loon with no sense of self preservation. My capacity for rational thought had long ago expired. Manfriend was proud.
It is a miracle that I did not return from Colorado horribly disabled.