I’m still coming down from the vacation high following five perfect days spent in Telluride, Colorado. Pete’s family has been coming to Telluride for many years and generously shared their beautiful home with us for the week. The whole scene is something out of a dream.
We skied, we biked, we cruised around the charming town while I freaked out over all of the cute dogs and Patagonia-wearing toddlers. We ate French onion soup and croque monsieurs on the mountain in the sun at Bon Vivant and washed it all down with crisp, dry cider. (Cue unsnapping the ski pants.) Pete made lamb lollipops we bought from this specialty shop in town, we finally finished Season 3 of House of Cards, and I went undefeated in several rounds of Bananagrams. We read our books, cheered for Wisconsin basketball (I may have slept through this part), and sat next to James Van Der Beek and his wife at La Marmotte (!!!) while my middle school self tried to remain calm.
We also got to see a fantastic movie that just premiered at SXSW called Love and Mercy, a biopic about Brian Wilson of The Beach Boys. I can’t stop thinking about it. Other highlights included eating donuts and pizza at Baked in Telluride, steak and truffle pommes frites at the bar at the New Sheridan Hotel, and every berry pie and mezcal basil limeade at The Butcher and the Baker Cafe.
We rarely knew what time it was (unless the chairlift was closing) and my to-do list was nowhere in sight. My mouth was constantly agape — be it a view of the mountains, the alpine glow before sunset, or a herd of elk we passed on the road. I even sang the Dixie Chicks’ “Cowboy Take Me Away” at the top of my lungs. Twice. (Sorry, Pete.)
Needless to say, I didn’t want to leave.