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5:58 PM, Feb 25, 2008 toot this
Last Day in Colorado
Everybody woke up within four hours of each other yesterday, and kind of fired off in random directions. Some stayed in bed for a comfortable hung-over lie-in, while one sizable group headed into town to wander around and browse shops filled with useless crap. I was in the latter group. After shopping for crap ceased, we headed back to the condo to find everyone as awake as they were going to be, packed up the van, and left town. The ride from Steamboat Springs to Silverthorne, where we picked up the interstate, went without incident. However, we literally stopped moving when we got on the interstate.

Literally, we could have walked from Silverthorne to the Eisenhower Tunnel more quickly than it took us to drive it. The traffic was just a parking lot. It really was horrible. We helped ourselves to conversation and other distractive measures while Jon patiently inched the car forward over the next two hours. In all, it took us over five hours to drive to the airport, and through a frantic rush, only one person in our party made the plane: me. The rest of the group declared solidarity and waited to see if the airline would allow those with luggage to check theirs and get on the 7:40 flight(delayed to 8:06). They would not. I found an agent and explained about my baggageless hurry, and she helped me without hesitation. She printed me a boarding pass, bade me godspeed, and advised me to run, as the gate, like so many things at Denver International, was nowhere close to where I was.

And run I did. I ran until the sweat was beyond uncomfortable, until I couldn't run anymore, until my breaths were just dry, nasty morning-breath gasps. All the while I kept in contact with Chris, who informed me that they had all ten been placed on standby for two available seats on the 9pm flight. Thankfully, they all got in. I reached the gate just as they called my row, and took a moment to enjoy my disgustingly drenched clothes.

The rest of the story is an unremarkable sideline of an uneventful flight, a cab that claimed to take cards but didn't really, and getting gratefully to sleep in my own bed by midnight. In lieu of further information of substance, here are some pictures.

009sprungs.jpg 013sprungs.jpg 024sprungs.jpg 028sprungs.jpg 038sprungs.jpg 042sprungs.jpg 046sprungs.jpg

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Portland, OR
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