Where's Nate?

living large in the four-oh-eight. wicked large.


life a mile above sea level.

Picked up my Dad at the Denver airport yesterday morning to continue the cross-country adventure. Our first order of business: checking into our hotel in Littleton as quickly as possible so that we could start fly-fishing. Dad landed around 11:00am. We were deep in the mountains on the South Platte by 2:00pm. Awesome. No luck, although we did have a few nibbles.

I'm a huge fan of the Rockies and the dramatic pause they give one when one is travelling west from Denver. While I am a native Californian who grew up spending every summer in the Sierra Nevadas, the Rockies are bigger, broader, steeper. And when you're tossing a tiny fly in a shallow stream, dwarfed by thousand foot cliffs, it's other-wordly.

This morning we met up with my buddy, Soren, to play a round at Arrowhead in Littleton. Amazing course made very challenging by stiff winds on the front nine. Shot 44-39 (better once the wind calmed down). Drove over the pass to Glenwood Springs and decided to play another nine holes at a local muni. 27 holes, 170 miles. That's my kind of road trip.


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