Dave and I in front, Carissa and Aly second row.Last month I asked Aly if she would be interested in a rafting trip. "Yes!" With the much above average snow pack in our mountains this year, and near record runoff rates (and an aversion to driving long distances for a one day amusement) I opted to repeat the trip we did last year. Last week I asked Dave S. if he and his daughter Carissa would be interested. Again, "Yes!"
Dave picked us up near noon, getting us into Idaho Springs a good two hours before we were to assemble at the rafting company. Aly and I had had a meal before leaving but Dave and Carissa hadn't. We ended up at the Tommyknocker Brewery; they ate and we sipped. We walked around for a while before heading to what the guides later referenced as the boat house
Again, we were rather early and took care of all the little legal necessities (signing away all our rights). We were finally called to assemble in the parking lot for a head count before heading to the back of the building to receive our wet suits, booties, splash jackets and helmets. Shortly after getting my gear on and my street clothes lockered the smell hit me. Did someone waive their morning shower? I walked around a bit to check on the others, then waited for more instructions from the head guide. There's that smell again. Then it hit me -- it was coming from my gear. Not me, but the gear. Ick!
Another head check and we boarded the bus to get to the put-in site. There we all got the standard safety and rafter boatmanship lectures and our guide assignments. We were joined by an Irish gent with two young boys (this was a beginner trip). We hauled the raft to the water's edge and scrambled in. There were a few practice commands from the guide, then we put into shore to wait for the other boats in our group.
The last to arrive was the trip leader. Her boat swirled around a bar in the creek out of control. One of her side tubes had been holed, probably at the put-in where there were a couple sharp rocks. There was some discussion amongst the guides as to how to proceed. The group was to go to a point in the town and beach again while the leader's raft was replaced. She left before we did, as did a couple other rafts.
The initial rapids were good little training grounds giving us the feel of the raft in a couple different conditions. We drifted past the leader in town, she saying we were to wait for her at the boat house. A few more small rapids and purposeful spins and we were there. Three miles had passed so quickly.
At the boat house time drug on a bit as we waited. Then, there's the leader. She'd no sooner hit the beach when she announced she had a medical situation; one of her guests had lacerated his hand on a D-ring mount on the side of the raft. That person and his company went to the boat house with her. She returned several minutes later and asked for volunteers to join her raft (she was down to two guests, and they provide all the power). A couple people moved from one of the other rafts. She looked to the skies and asked for better luck on the rest of the trip, and we set off.
The lower rapids on the trip were more exciting than anything up to that point, Care was taken to make sure that both sides of the raft got drenched in their splash. The last rapid was the biggest, our only Class III, and good exciting fun. 300 feet later we were beached at the take-out point.
Back at the boat house everyone was scrambling to get out of their wet, smelly gear. I asked around about the smell. Everyone said their gear smelled. Dave thought it smelled like mildew. Carissa and Aly gave different descriptions -- smelly people and algae, respectively. I just thought it smelled like BO. The wet suits are put through a bath but the splash jackets aren't. Those are just turned inside-out and hung to dry, so they're probably the source of the problem. I don't recall such a problem on my earlier Brown's Canyond trips, but we didn't use splash jackets there.
It was 6pm by the time we got back to the car, so we returned to the town for dinner at Beau Jo's, home of the famous Rocky Mountain Pie, sold by the pound. This is not a place to miss when you're in the area. There are branches in select Front Range cities, but I don't know if the food in them approaches the original. We all noted the Beau Jo's Challenge pie on the menu - 12-14 pounds of lusciousness which, if consumed by two people in an hour is free with a prize of $100 and a couple tee shirts. Otherwise you have to pony up $75.
A bit of serendipity allowed Aly and me to see how it is made (on the Food Channel) just moments ago. Get this: six pounds of dough are rolled out and formed into a high walled crust then filled with like 12 ounces of cheese and a layer of pepperoni, then baked. Then it's filled with layers of sausage, ground beef, onions, green peppers, mushrooms, more cheese and a final layer of pepperoni, 12-14 ounces each, no substitutions please, and baked again. The pie on the show weighed out at 12 1/2 pounds. A pair of thirty-ish hungry guys dove into the creation with determination. Shortly came the calls for a pitcher of beer and Rolaids. There was demonstrable belt loosening. By 20 minutes they were at a near standstill. At 30 the napkins were waving over their heads. The pie we were watching being created was weighed again -- 7 1/2 pounds. The owners says he usually gets one successful pair of Challenge eaters per year. Staggering! (Pun intended.)
2 comments:
Say, I noticed that everyone in the photo except you and Dave are laughing and smiling, you two seem to be very deep in thought and focused on what is coming up ahead. It’s just an observation nothing meant by it.
I’m also curious about one other thing that you talked about in this article. Did you eat some of the “pie” at the Rocky Mountain Pie Co.? If you did, I’m surprised, because you said in another blog entry, that you can’t wait until your operation is done so that you can eat some ribs. I thought that you are suppose to be on a low fat diet because of the gall stones, and the way you describe that pie it is 98% fat, only the onions contain no fat, all the other ingredients do. Comparatively pork ribs might be 50 – 60% fat. Hey, take care of yourself, we’d like to have you around for a while, okay?
Oh, do they serve that “pie” a-al-mode? Maybe pecan-praline would be good with it, and would drive it up to 99% fat.
The rapid is called Full Moon because of an outhoouse hanging over the edge of the creek bank. The lower part of the back is missing and you can see a butt planted in the hole. Others in the raft were still having their giggles; Dave and I were watching what we were heading into. The drop really didn't warrant the level of concern you see on our faces.
No one in our company ordered the Cbnallenge. Had I been offered, I might have taken a bite, no more. As it was I had a small, thin, wheat crust hamburger and onion pizza. Aly had a huge calzone. Dave and Carissa had a vegetarian pie. Even the small pies are big! The crusts are made with a bit of honey in the mix (very tasty). Many people save the crust edges for desert, pouring more honey on them from the handy squeeze bottle present on every table.
I can't speak to the fat content of a pecan/praline pie, but I think 99% is a bit of an overstatement. Rich in the extreme, yes, but I recall nothing but sweet, sweet, sweet the last time I tried one.
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