It all started in an epic hail storm just west of Golden.
The battery light came on and as the miles ticked away the digital clock started to dim and the speedometer stopped working.
When Jon announced that the battery light had turned off I was briefly encouraged until I realized that the battery was too dead to illuminate the light anymore.
We were heading to Breckenridge for a mountain bike race and by this point we were still 40 miles from our destination.
The last thing to go was the engine; it died on Interstate 70 just past the exit for Silver Plume.
So Jon, clever boy, turns the still-rolling vehicle hard right down the “on” ramp.
Yes, we went the wrong way down an I-70 on-ramp without turn signals and brake lights- which were dead, of course.
Would you believe it if I told you we coasted right into the driveway of an auto repair garage?
We see that the garage looks closed up but attached is a bar called Grumpy’s and it looks open. As we step through the threshold we are transported back into mid-20th century America surrounded by old fashioned gas pumps and other memorabilia. At the bar are two local guys sipping Bud and behind the bar is a young blond woman who asks how she can help. Explaining our situation, she nods and rattles off the phone number of the garage proprietor. I call him and he says he’ll be there in 10 minutes to charge our battery.
So we have a seat and order some beers. They had Bud, Bud Light, Coors, Coors Light, PBR and Heineken. I ordered a PBR and Jon had a Bud. He says the Bud was really good, which makes me wince. After a little bit the mechanic arrives and hooks up the car to the cold charger. He says it will take 1 hour and 25 dollars.
So as we linger the bartender mentions that she’ll be closing up soon as she is in a play. I ask about the play and she says it is a local Melodrama, written by her grandfather- George Downing. Turns out George has been writing a new melodrama for the townsfolk every year since the early seventies- complete with original songs. Willing Silver Plumians volunteer for parts in the melodrama. Note that the people of Silver Plume have taken to calling it just the “Melodrama” and not the name of that year’s iteration. Later we find out that George Downing is not the girl’s grandfather but that’s just easier to say than, “the old guy that lives at my house.”
The doors open at 6pm and the play starts at 8. From 6 to 8 one can hang out and assemble cold sandwiches from the buffet then have some ice cream. As for drinks, bringing your own is not only ok but expected. So everyone gets sauced on the hooch they carry in from home. The bartender said one year a particularly rowdy bunch brought a Coleman drink pitcher full of powerful rum punch- she could smell them from the stage. Another patron tells a story from melodrama 2006 in which, during the all-men’s song, a woman in the front row puts her feet on the stage intentionally allowing full view up her skirt. His point was that audience members are encouraged to distract the cast to make them slip up- this was just his most extreme example. He said it is like informal dinner theater, very informal. If you want to come, the melodrama runs on weekends every April and the first Friday in July.
In the last minutes before the bar closes the bartender offers Axel an OJ. He sits at the bar drinking it and I mention that it is probably illegal. The oldest guy at the bar laughs and says, “Not in Silver Plume since there aren’t really any law people around.” His friend chimes in, “We have vigilante justice here.” I love this place.
Once we are finished with our drinks the proprietress closes up and tells us we should walk around town, which we do. What a great little town! Dirt and gravel road with lots of old Victorians just steeped in history. There were antique foot bridges and a broken down caboose as well as wooden sidewalks, an old church, bell tower and some sort of eclectic automobile parts park in the town center. Axel had a great time exploring the town and so did we. I’m still smiling at the lovely gift life can handed me.
We embark on the walk
Axel on the platform of the caboose
Auto Parts park at Town Center
Jon checks out one of the many cool footbridges
Before we knew it the battery was all charged up and we were back on the road to Breckenridge (where a more permanent auto fix awaits us on Monday morning). On our way back to the car we passed a smiling townsman holding an iced red colored drink in his left hand and a corked magnum of wine is his right. He said, “You’re going the wrong direction, the melodrama’s back that way.” I can’t help but think he may have been right.
Axel took our picture as we sat on the porch swing in front of the town bakery. A local congratulated us for finding the sunniest spot in town.
Happy Independence Day America!
Leah started Middle School. Here she is annoyed to have her picture taken while waiting in line to have her picture taken. I guess that is kind of annoying, but as it turns out, this is a more "natural Leah" photo than the school portrait. The school portrait has the forced smile that is de rigueur for middle school students.
Axel started Big Boy school at the local Montessori Elementary (Pre-K to Fifth grade). Here he is dwarfed by the gym/stage/cafeteria.
Axel turned 3 and rode this horse to Steamboat Springs for a mini-vacay.
Leah absconded with Axel's cow poke vest and rubber band rifle (BD gifts from Dad). The hat is her own.
Grandma gave Axel a lovely wooden US puzzle and a beading toy. All very Montessori-esque.
Grandma also came to Steamboat... here she is looking cute and treating us to a Gondola ride.
Axel and I at the Gondola Summit.
Leah and Axel enjoyed the ride.
The next day we babysat Sam while his mom won the Steamboat Crit.
This weekend we inaugurated the 'cross season at the Hudz-Subaru race on the Boulder Velodrome grounds. Axel rode the North Shore course inside the 'drome, mainly sticking to the intermediate routes. Jon's teammie Matt Pacocha won and Jon got 2nd.
I'd have probably fallen off this, and not just because of the keg in the parking lot.
Whew, back to school month is exhausting.
