I really like the company I keep. Over the years, i’ve crafted quite the close-knit circle, casting away from those I share few to no interests with. I don’t have buddies who wear Affliction or Ed Hardy. I no longer associate with those who have given themselves nicknames. And the cats who prefer the cliche Vegas-style bachelor party hijinx? Thanks, but no thanks.
For the second time in under a year. my cabin in Breckenridge has played host to a bachelor party. The first was a close friend in from CHI. All he wanted was a few good friends, some guitar playing, cold beer, and steaks. Let it be so. This past weekend, my brother had the same notion. Though we went one step further and checked out the huts of the 10th Mountain Division (pictured below). Beyond boss, man. We grabbed a slew of Bud Light and some Tremens, pre-formed beef patties, and headed into the hills. After all the hiking, cooking, drinking, eating, talking and burning of stuff was done, night had fallen and the 85 degree day quickly turned into a frigid 45 degree eve. Though the bed I chose to crash upon had nothing but a blanket and a top sheet, said blanket happened to be a Pendleton (pictured above), and it kept me warm the entire night. In fact, such a time was had that we’ve deemed it proper to head back in late August. I assume the nights will be even cooler. So we’ll see how a Pendleton blanky holds up then, too.