tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62683151914125449882023-11-16T03:38:16.565-08:00Where Are They Now?Follow us where ever we are, hopefully with some interesting stories and adventures!Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.comBlogger143125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-56162597300283967082017-03-28T21:48:00.000-07:002017-10-08T21:49:43.838-07:00Johns Visit: The Desert<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBShJo2kRYQFScpe0D8LV5mAJ3Voal9HfZYaVj5pGJLR_NBP7JclpslYZgmIUN9t_awrO2gEQVeZnJi6rwG9AsqePSoXogemDgQexUnAux0cd3CnjKwri7yEGmq2BJLYtcAU3vcOaJjWc/s640/IMG_2348.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Thomas with Delicate Arch</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Now its almost unimaginable to think that just down the road
from our snowy enclave in the mountains that you can find yourself in 30
degrees C weather, melting in the desert. But, that’s where we were headed, to Moab,Utah and some of the finest mountain biking on offer and with some crazy rocks too.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We got into
town after a early start and set up camp to head off immediately into Arches National Park. With the sunshine on our necks and the unusual feeling of warm air surrounding us, we headed on the Delicate Arch walk. Shortly into the walk I myself found some wild source of
energy from within. I was a man possessed. I was just running, jumping, climbing
and exploring with such a spring in my step and a twinkle in my eye. I think I
was just enchanted by the desert, and man was it fun. We posed with Delicate Arch and I ventured across a steep and narrow crossing to where no one else had
ventured. Amy decided to follow, for some reason, and for a quick moment really
found herself in a pickle of a situation. Amy sliding 30m down a rock face
would have put a bit of a damper on the trip, but it didn’t quite come to
that. A relaxing night cooking sausages on the camp fire, of course accompanied
by a refreshing beverage or two. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Maybe the most famous mountain bike ride in North America, running from high in the mountains right back down into town in Moab is The Whole
Enchilada. It’s a 20 mile descent across the most amazing red rocked desert. It starts so high in fact it would have
been many more months till the snow cleared on the top section and it dried out, so we were only able to ride half of the Whole Enchilada. To make up for the half
we were missing out on and to get the most of of the riding experience, to
really earn it, we cycled the whole route of the Porcupine Rim from town and
back. Featuring a 20km 3 hour uphill ascent followed but the remaining 3
hour descent and hour lap back into town. It was a fair journey and it was definitely me and John's most epic adventure together.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4b6jfp1eEu3P0J6iejMyHKmaovEv6rLY3xXJU20RXfyXwtrDFcMX0e_aiV4pRcp1u_GzBY8Auq5x7VWnqsOqHpT1KV_YftuzOjbKi48tlbCUmkY2FIrIZftRiX1lZkEyuLPnQf-Y5Fo/s1600/IMG_2338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-4b6jfp1eEu3P0J6iejMyHKmaovEv6rLY3xXJU20RXfyXwtrDFcMX0e_aiV4pRcp1u_GzBY8Auq5x7VWnqsOqHpT1KV_YftuzOjbKi48tlbCUmkY2FIrIZftRiX1lZkEyuLPnQf-Y5Fo/s640/IMG_2338.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">It was simply just a blast for the entire ride. Not at all discounting the arduous ride uphill, even that was a scenic spectacular. Passing through an environment so unlike anywhere else, it was quite easy to keep the pedals turning. Reaching the top felt like the achievement, but that was actually the easy part. If you're thinking we were just off on a casual roll down the hill from there, it was anything but. Fast undulating sections, steep chunky sections and sections where off to the side would send you over a 100m cliff. Our full suspension rental bikes were put through their paces but they didn't completely protect us from all those bumps. The ride had literally shaken us to pieces, so much in fact that I spent the following days cradling my hand because it felt as though it was broken, despite having not crashed. When we made it back down to the road section, we re-hydrated from a spring coming out of the side of a rock wall and headed back into town to meet Amy and then drove to a river to try and cool off. We were all melting, and this river was the only oasis in the desert, except that it was painfully cold, with snowmelt from the mountains, we could only dip our toes in. That night we treated ourselves to some BBQ, going to the same restaurant Amy and I dined at with her sister and mom back in 2012 during our road trip and we finished the night back at Arches, where we hiked to a lookout spot, watched the sunset and did some stargazing before sitting around with some cold beers by the campfire.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Feeling like we had achieved life's meaning and having conquered the desert, but our muscles were calling out that the desert had conquered us, we headed one last time into Arches on the way out of town to do an Amy guided journey through some more of the desert spacescapes. I limped from view to view taking advantage of every sitting opportunity or spot of shade. Not long before you know it, we were on our way back into the mountains, where the warm weather had followed us. </span></div>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-68842308506954643042017-03-27T21:31:00.000-07:002017-10-08T21:53:29.258-07:00John's Visit: The Mountains<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Devo Bros being silly</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The highlight of my time in Colorado was having my bro come
shred and chill for a week. Using his 30<sup>th</sup> birthday as a great excuse to spring a bit of a surprise
trip. He did take the surprise away from us demanding he needed to know what
was up to take the time off work, but that's the price you pay for being such a hot shot
head chef, the bugger. Other than knowing he was coming over to ski and live the "High Life", he knew nothing of the mad trip we had planned. Props to the Devo
Parents and the Clarks for significantly chipping in for his flights and most
importantly to Kel for
surrendering him for a week and giving him a generous beer budget. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Up Breckenridge</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Right from the get go, we got after it. Straight out of the
airport parking structure at 7000rpm we quickly got caught in stand still traffic, but only temporarily, while we headed to Boulder. That was of course after a pit stop at the
always impressive Bass Pro Shop. Browsing for camo-print sofas, fluro trucker
hats and $160 hand guns. Shooting some guns ourselves, only of the laser rifle
hunting game variety, the bro-off begins. Making it right to the Flatirons on
the foothills in Boulder with a perfectly timed breakdown, we pulled into the car park and had to finish the parking maneuver with John and a stranger pushing. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3w0HY9ddj1rpMe2MutpyV_R9z2idoc0GDQZh9BD9Ouwbp2W8TAFhq5X_ejx5rytZRd48e4c4ChXSp2E9MZisY6-ZN4yeUT0sAGFN4Ns4zPYIr74st2khXFJN1REW2LYK8P8HjKwyctU/s1600/IMG_2341.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK3w0HY9ddj1rpMe2MutpyV_R9z2idoc0GDQZh9BD9Ouwbp2W8TAFhq5X_ejx5rytZRd48e4c4ChXSp2E9MZisY6-ZN4yeUT0sAGFN4Ns4zPYIr74st2khXFJN1REW2LYK8P8HjKwyctU/s640/IMG_2341.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The Flatirons are an array of impressive steep tilted sandstone slabs pressing against the foothills below Boulder making for a steep and strenuous climb offering magnificent views across the plains and into the mountains where we were headed. No way to better kick jet lags butt than to acclimatise on a leisurely afternoon climb up these mad rocks. That we did and to be honest for myself
having just descended 1500 meters the air to me was like breathing liquid
oxygen. I’m not sure that it was so for John though, as we were still at 1500
meters elevation. A good few hours round trip and after a wee Cheba Hut snack
in town, we were off again rallying up the Boulder Canyon. Taking the scenic
route winding up the narrow canyon and climbing over winding mountain roads.
John's analysis of the situation was fair, “It looks very North American”. Climbing
over the Continental Divide right at sunset was just a magic way to introduce
John to our home of Summit County. With pizza and beer for dinner in town at
Downstairs at Eric's, the trip had only just got started, and was very "North American."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">Picking up some rental gear from my ski shop the following
morning, the boys introduced John to the our tough mountain lifestyle, with a
controversial Barley Wine that had been hanging in the fridge undrunk for some
time. At 9%ABV John was ready to get going. Now, due to an unseasonably warm and
early onset of spring, meant that we were able to jet around town in style in the RX7, however it left a little to be desired on the snow front. However, one can only
complain so much when you are at 4000m in stunning sunshine snowboarding in the
Rockies at A-basin ski area. Casual laps and a few fun runs into the trees
while still actually managing to find some good snow. Continuing to take advantage of the strange weather, we baked
in the sun on the balcony of our house some cool beverages, good music and better
yarns in the early afternoon.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Sunset over lake Dillion from Keystone</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Following our interlude off to the desert we returned to this mountain lifestyle for what seemed like 4 more short days. As the old saying goes, how time flies when your having fun. Its a pretty manageable routine, which often was the general makeup of our lives in Colorado, I guess with the insert of a few work days here and there. But the basic formula we went with while John was around was, wake up, have a big breakfast, head out to the slopes, can of mountain dew in the pocket, shred hard and explore the mountain and head back to town for happy hour. That's roughly how its went. We did mix it up actually a day or two, with the insertion of a wee journey out to Beaver Creek. That was quite the unbelievable day as it was just so hot. Literally in the teens, celsius. At times it was more like water skiing, but its always cool to get back to the Beav and explore our old haunches and I believe I had about 10 hot cookies at the end of the day, 3pm on the dot at the bottom of the chairlift. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Tinkabell at Broken Compass Brewery with us.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">Another day we did the double-banger with a morning session at Breckenridge then heading over to Keystone for night skiing, which at that point of the year was more like twilight skiing. Seeing the sunset over Summit County, across Lake Dillion from the top of the skifield was pretty magic. And other than that, it was a bit like, good food and beers at home, playing cards and listening to music or adventures with the dogs to a local brewery or up the hills for a walk. I hope John had a mad time, I sure as hell did and I cant wait for my 30th birthday present ;)</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">A perfect week in the mountains!</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-57462246682354633462017-01-27T21:14:00.000-08:002017-10-08T21:15:31.997-07:00Winter Full On<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHQoXH9jKBGKniFeLiBtTlobWUBPthiJAXmVMxJvsdQPu6bpFEKzVuEp9Ith0QGvQ6TQgHMy0knPKTPAISIeducy35-oUiGjSGm_stauOFguFTejW4qjdr11R7NYX-de7fHsvSj4UgZ8/s1600/Photo-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="720" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUHQoXH9jKBGKniFeLiBtTlobWUBPthiJAXmVMxJvsdQPu6bpFEKzVuEp9Ith0QGvQ6TQgHMy0knPKTPAISIeducy35-oUiGjSGm_stauOFguFTejW4qjdr11R7NYX-de7fHsvSj4UgZ8/s640/Photo-2.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">New Years Day at Vail</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OgKqNAliuF3YmHtZiRCHc9V3yFDxMaxerXCdWHQiQCyEpFOYWHS7tvwzMgK5zwIrwv3cp6e3USbe1gYO0owzCmA2ZryJtzKp7ITv2z8u56OP5yZA9UhXFCEVLHegC5dyccPvhj8Ba4E/s1600/IMG_2047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;">Winter really just seemed to blend into a white haze of snowboarding, skiing, friends, dogs, digging snow and I guess there must have been a bit of work in there, too. For myself there was a work change. I was sick of the attitudes and work ethic at the distillery, so I took on full time hours at a ski shop called Base Mountain Sports. This place was my second home surrounding me with good people, friendly tourists, a great working atmosphere and more beer than a brewery! Amy kept at it with Carriage House Preschool and very much enjoyed her four day work week and took advantage with maximum days on the slopes. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #999999;">The trusty, mighty Bronco</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OgKqNAliuF3YmHtZiRCHc9V3yFDxMaxerXCdWHQiQCyEpFOYWHS7tvwzMgK5zwIrwv3cp6e3USbe1gYO0owzCmA2ZryJtzKp7ITv2z8u56OP5yZA9UhXFCEVLHegC5dyccPvhj8Ba4E/s1600/IMG_2047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><br /><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1OgKqNAliuF3YmHtZiRCHc9V3yFDxMaxerXCdWHQiQCyEpFOYWHS7tvwzMgK5zwIrwv3cp6e3USbe1gYO0owzCmA2ZryJtzKp7ITv2z8u56OP5yZA9UhXFCEVLHegC5dyccPvhj8Ba4E/s320/IMG_2047.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With nothing special planned for New Years Eve, we took the evening as it came, with friends new and old. We ended up venturing on a night walk above town on Hosier Pass, finding ourselves a prefect out cropping sitting right above town and looking right across to the ski field, the perfect spot to watch the fireworks light up the sky. With the dogs in tow, we wandered through the snow covered forest on a beautiful clear evening, cold to the bone as the time of year generally is. Back at the house we released some lanterns with varying success, a few got going and others caught on fire in the driveway or in a neighbours tree. We drank, we played games, and we made mini pizzas with dough fried in a frying pan. The only actual incident of the evening was during an acroyoga performance back at home. Amy's glasses got tumbled on and the tape around the centre method didn't stick, so they were retired from there on out. To start the year in style, on New Years Day we headed over the pass to Vail to ride and pose for photos with Phil and Sarah.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjt1zPWr1Gm93wHSVQqhJSvfAalgDM6adUlZHnR1xDKItWBQZ3yJJoUkNdfmE2xZUTkYAzB7phA-qiqt6Xx3ZMJ4b4CLlEXBrPDovy6yZIPvsjuBwbjbeagrJcZCYP25VKA-h7wrJw2U/s1600/IMG_2407.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCjt1zPWr1Gm93wHSVQqhJSvfAalgDM6adUlZHnR1xDKItWBQZ3yJJoUkNdfmE2xZUTkYAzB7phA-qiqt6Xx3ZMJ4b4CLlEXBrPDovy6yZIPvsjuBwbjbeagrJcZCYP25VKA-h7wrJw2U/s640/IMG_2407.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Into the New Year we had a visit from Amy's high school friend Janelle from NYC. It was great to host and show off our little winter paradise to the city slicker. The busy girl was still sending work emails off at night and all but did manage a good few days skiing. We also met with Amy's mom's boss Emily and her son Ben later on in the season. We met them for some mad sushi in Dillon and they were more than happy to let me play tour guide across the mountain for some skiing adventures. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">There were some cool things going on regularly in town over winter. Particularly the International Ice Sculpting Festival. Over a few days we saw the huge blocks of compacted snow get carved out to the most intricate and innovative designs from teams from all over the world. I honestly cannot comprehend the skill and talent that was displayed. From basic geometric designs to the most intricate intertwined mermaids and dragons. Also we were very motivated to participate in the Science Day march through town. It was very disappointing though that the march was not allowed to make its way through Main Street, instead they pushed us to the backstreets of town. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPH0xfCtdxOtLTNJ7Vdjr8oEbHTMXDfZzQRScUu4nOgLB38shGeeGVVtTkTQTaG3-GLgumvKGEFT-bnRUJh1ojBV3usdcn5aGC-3SqxvTtZeybx9qS4U8u33i9lI_7IG8hJlyrLxL0HE/s1600/IMG_2177.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwPH0xfCtdxOtLTNJ7Vdjr8oEbHTMXDfZzQRScUu4nOgLB38shGeeGVVtTkTQTaG3-GLgumvKGEFT-bnRUJh1ojBV3usdcn5aGC-3SqxvTtZeybx9qS4U8u33i9lI_7IG8hJlyrLxL0HE/s640/IMG_2177.JPG" width="480" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5L-Sr3C5r1wvxLt6kLYSQPkQWwt2d6Zg5xmV4Lm9_17zLUvcfVi107Qi0ZjSaFT9e4URMN679da671cqfhtEj4Ae1pEIjvshaZenqYGmE9ZFDGq_91u_n_6OESU22AmbxAMate8PS4M/s1600/IMG_2399.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW5L-Sr3C5r1wvxLt6kLYSQPkQWwt2d6Zg5xmV4Lm9_17zLUvcfVi107Qi0ZjSaFT9e4URMN679da671cqfhtEj4Ae1pEIjvshaZenqYGmE9ZFDGq_91u_n_6OESU22AmbxAMate8PS4M/s400/IMG_2399.JPG" width="300" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Because life wasn't enough of a party, we and every other local made a day of April Fool's Day, renamed "Gaper Day" in the mountains. To celebrate 'The Gaper', those being the woeful weekend skiers and those making their annual ski trip form Texas. Generally adorned with questionable talent and even more questionable fashion sense. Skiing in jeans and an unintentional retro look is how you spot them, but on Gaper Day we take back our mountain. Particularly encouraged by my fellow employees, I adorned my wetsuit for the speed skier look, with trendy headband and undersized googles, oversized poles complemented my custom built mini-skis. Rocking laps around the mountain with Amy, who wore just a dress and leggings and my boss Justin, head to toe in black and also wearing just sneakers strapped into his snowboard, we made as many turns as I received high fives. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Keeping on the theme of generally having a great time, maybe the best work life balance was achieved with an 8am start at the shop, breaking at 12 noon to head up skiing with Amy and our mate Will for a couple hours, before heading back to the shop and jumping in the hot tub attached to the associated hotel in the building. Having a couple beers and a good old soak, then to head back to finish off an honest days work renting skis to the friendly crowd of out-of-towners. Finishing off the night chilling with friends and the dogs by the fire at home. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Always loved taking these guys out for a walk.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Thinking that spring was upon us, Amy's work locked in their Sunday BBQ at 'The Beach' at A-Basin. The Beach being the first row of parking spots which have picnic tables set out and where everyone chills out American style as they would at the real beach. Grilling on the BBQ, copious quantities of beer, and generally a year round Gaper Day attitude generally leads to a fun time. However, the sun stopped shinning and one should never complain about fresh snow, but it just meant less chilling on the beach and more time hustling down the double blacks. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznu73FVbM06zCJ-A6DEP9I0KG-7r_lh-4N5QLC3jOl1UjzTuvged1qBtKa4z0eViGE3pjgDv7V-OtBr82DjChUopaOnICcud_893wNv5ceA1XR5vE1VBun7z6IXOABXEdmLXy9K7iQxs/s1600/IMG_2234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhznu73FVbM06zCJ-A6DEP9I0KG-7r_lh-4N5QLC3jOl1UjzTuvged1qBtKa4z0eViGE3pjgDv7V-OtBr82DjChUopaOnICcud_893wNv5ceA1XR5vE1VBun7z6IXOABXEdmLXy9K7iQxs/s640/IMG_2234.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The one thing I had really been hoping for over winter was a night ski session where it was just dumping snow. Particularly for the reason that its always very quiet and that means more snow for me. So low and behold, the last night of night skiing ever, about an hour and a half before lights out, the heavens opened up like never before. An accumulation of around a foot in that hour or so made for a heavenly few last runs of the season at Keystone. With the snow falling under the artificially illuminated skies, it was quite possibly the coolest experience, quite surreal because of the contrast of black and white, and there was a lot of white. The skiing was unbelievable and just generally a fantastic memory to cap off the end of the night skiing season. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kR3YCLqK2kb6p_3M6JkC4BGclzWbb57h_9zWrsP8eRft4XkZDBEQr1pb7JrUSRt5c4o2x4SAffxZQ72ymAB7q3YcyFKK_L-faoy4Y7Q4DJ-Kknnnp6q0hSJNkG-n7c3KrEd3m7baA1w/s1600/IMG_2325.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kR3YCLqK2kb6p_3M6JkC4BGclzWbb57h_9zWrsP8eRft4XkZDBEQr1pb7JrUSRt5c4o2x4SAffxZQ72ymAB7q3YcyFKK_L-faoy4Y7Q4DJ-Kknnnp6q0hSJNkG-n7c3KrEd3m7baA1w/s640/IMG_2325.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">One might notice my mentioning a lot of the term skiing. Generally referring to one partaking in the activity of maneuvering down hill on two separate 'planks' rather than the term to ride, referring to the cooler more modern singled planked snow sport. Generally we refer to the idea that 'we went riding' or 'we went skiing'. If you have been paying attention, I have been using the literal skiing wording far more than the term riding. This is because I did myself have a bit of a mid-season crisis and ended up spending a lot of my time on the mountain on skis. Which I loved. Proving a bit more of a challenge and opening up new levels of learning. I would borrow skis from the shop, which then enhanced my sales experience for my customers giving them first hand advice on the skis they were renting off me. Not stopping with just me, Amy even caught the ski bug too. Venturing out a few times to hit up the greens and blues, Amy did good as, and when on the more basic terrain there I would practice my backwards skiing and therefore could give good face to face coaching while on the go. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Maybe our biggest love of all, food. We had some good old american food adventures, very deserving after big days of skiing and riding. Happy hour specials all round, a few of our favourite spots with their particular deals. Monster nachos at the Quandry Grill, $7 workman's lunch burger and beer at the Breck Brewery, pizza followed by Pacman at Downstairs at Eric's and our best hookup at Cecelia's Cocktail Lounge where its all about who you know. </span><br />
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-88359157640824639672016-12-31T19:48:00.000-08:002017-01-25T19:49:30.982-08:00Christmas on the East Coast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Christmas Eve</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We headed back to Connecticut on Christmas Eve. Ted collected us from the airport and was well prepared with a few nice pale ales on board for the ride home. It was a dazzling sight seeing all the activity of airports and busy highways, skylines full of lights and activity, especially coming from our little secluded place on Earth.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Christmas day was the usual Sierpina affair, starting with presents, followed by more presents and even a further bout of presents later in the day. It was a fairly relaxed time though as Diane was hosting the day's festivities for the entire family, meaning for us we didn't need to leave home. And all that stress about having to prepare and cook food for 20 people, well it didn't stir me. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Following Christmas, we took the annual pilgrimage into NYC to join the hordes looking at sparkling lights and Christmas scenes in shop windows. Man, it was carnage anywhere near Rockefeller Center. For blocks it was mobbed and it was just bizarre how people can see that as a positive experience. Well none the less we did it, then joined an hour long wait list for dinner. We got some tasty burgers, malt shakes, onion rings and fries though. That worked for us.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Being in the area to our old Stratford, we journeyed late one evening to Two Roads. My old shift was finishing up for the day around 10pm, so we tried some of the new beers up in the tasting room and bumped into some of our old mates around the place. We had a little nostalgic walk around the brewery and sat with the boys in the control room while they managed the crisis of the day, then sat in the break room once they were off and shared with them some of Breck's finest bourbons and whiskeys and again more good beer right off the production line. It was great catching up with these guys, who for a good year were the faces I saw every day. Its a bit of a story of our lives, having been such good mates for a short time, and so sad to have left them behind. But without moving and traveling so much, we would never have the opportunity to meet people like these guys and so many others throughout all our travels. Whether for a day, week or year, it is better to have had that time with these people and then had to say goodbye than to have not had that time at all. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Sunrise over NYC on our way back to the mountains</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-73489102207551794862016-12-30T16:23:00.000-08:002017-08-13T16:23:46.824-07:00Winter Came<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jm5lG8mjfFdyduWhcAamq4rflDl8kU0UjFZT9fg0pAILFg6elX1ZTyxrChD-DkGbzgEqPIIq6CHorImtDTorKj7oJPfme5ag9hgKBcfCr1QsOqEikxEWxgDj9UazXe8vDZhO2EHPeyE/s1600/IMG_1920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0jm5lG8mjfFdyduWhcAamq4rflDl8kU0UjFZT9fg0pAILFg6elX1ZTyxrChD-DkGbzgEqPIIq6CHorImtDTorKj7oJPfme5ag9hgKBcfCr1QsOqEikxEWxgDj9UazXe8vDZhO2EHPeyE/s640/IMG_1920.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Snow capped roves and mountains</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The arrival of winter, real winter, was received as a godsend to all those living in the mountains. When it decided to turn up, it came in, set up camp and just snowed and snowed and snowed. Turning our barren landscape into the white winter wonderland one dreams of. Day by day, as the inches accumulated, turning into feet, the mountain opened more and more terrain. Our drive-way piled up and up and the roads stayed constantly white, while no plow could compete with the accumulation and cold. It went about ten days straight that we didn't see the sun. In other places that would send people crazy, but everybody here could not have been happier.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">A summer sports car is hidden under there.</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyQkLfDQOAlDGvpRORWISA2SN_vCTZLTPmyAnMu7S3rCLq6H3sCPKqh9Q0CHINC3iCvqJA9VpWxMxsUyocSvTAi8XTj506myFBRnO5zxfDDBWRGru56uiHSoNi5WVknu9_D4-nBCWIFE/s1600/IMG_1933.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyyQkLfDQOAlDGvpRORWISA2SN_vCTZLTPmyAnMu7S3rCLq6H3sCPKqh9Q0CHINC3iCvqJA9VpWxMxsUyocSvTAi8XTj506myFBRnO5zxfDDBWRGru56uiHSoNi5WVknu9_D4-nBCWIFE/s400/IMG_1933.JPG" width="300" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The Colorado Super Chair </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The storms arrival was right in time for the start of the Dew Tour Ski and Snowboard competition. Too late to give the mountain the necessary snow for the full format of the event, it had to be reformatted due to a lack of snow for a halfpipe and full slopestyle course. The event showed to TV spectators around the world what a true Colorado snow storm looks like, but provided challenging conditions for participants. Down in town on the opening Friday night, a rail jam was held on Main Street. The rail was the length of a block and was positioned on a hill, so the course itself was as impressive as the 45 minute jam session. Our frozen feet quickly went numb as we were parked up right at the bottom of the course, but about an hour standing was all we could handle in the seriously negative temperatures.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The Dew Tour rail jam in town.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">A week after the big storm, we had another healthly dose of snow, with 19 inches coming overnight. This was really the motherload, with a good base established over the whole mountain and now a heavenly pillow covering it. It was time to really get out and smash it up. With perfect timing, we joined a small line at chair 6 high on the mountain just as they opened that terrain for the first time this season. Nearing the top of the lift to see the first skier and boarders coming down, it was obvious this was going to be a treat. We had a huge open bowl with sparse trees and bottomless powder. We took two runs before the queue for the lift got out of control. How was the snow you ask? Untouched, endless, deep and unmanageable. The pinnacle of my powder riding, I was literally choking on snow, it was just the greatest!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The line for Chair 6</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With the town decorated in golden twinkly lights and now covered in the most glorious coat of white, it was obviously Christmas time. With that we had some parties to attend. Amy's work had a very mature cheese and wine night in town, where luckily they served some fine beer, too. The distillery held more of the standard drunken affair, with some tasty buffet food including buffalo meat bolognese, however in my eyes there was a distinct lack of a hopped carbonated malt beverage. Not surprising I guess, seeing as we only make spirits!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Getting frosty out there</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-54932864936030770702016-12-03T21:10:00.000-08:002017-01-03T21:10:46.569-08:00A Brewery Odyssy<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4i3pfqB227yqEEsqCMoeIZdxwZ1jBLPe7oZtXxT27aLzUiBy9sMO-uzaNv18GHEIDV7aorhCIXUCzhwVhB9nxqNtZqqQo5g0PXrbn36DNG0orOxYD1M4Z0oPP5tVElwK7HFVvXcAPf2Y/s1600/DSCN4142.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4i3pfqB227yqEEsqCMoeIZdxwZ1jBLPe7oZtXxT27aLzUiBy9sMO-uzaNv18GHEIDV7aorhCIXUCzhwVhB9nxqNtZqqQo5g0PXrbn36DNG0orOxYD1M4Z0oPP5tVElwK7HFVvXcAPf2Y/s640/DSCN4142.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;">Awesome rocks in Boulder</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Having the Thanksgiving weekend off, along with mild weather
in the forecast, we thought this might be our last opportunity to get out and
explore before we get buried in for the season. We had a last minute adjustment
to the plans and booked an Airbnb in Fort Collins for two nights. Slightly
delayed by a snowstorm the night prior to leaving, we waited out for the roads
to melt and set off in the RX7 down I-70, then once happily out of the snow,
ducked off for Empire, an old mining town now turned into the gambling centre
of the Rockies. Honestly, from the street it looks like they did it right and
the casinos very well would have been the only way to fill and maintain their
historic downtown, which was presented idyllically as it may have looked 100
years ago. On along Colorado Route 40 heading north on top of the front range,
the road was stunning, winding, dipping and diving with the contours of the
mountains. The road became snowy in spots, so we ducked down the Boulder
Canyon, the first of three canyons we rallied over the weekend. Exiting the
canyon, we stopped at a park with some mad buttress red rocks which tower over
the town of Boulder. Clambering and climbing these rocks, which I can remember
visiting many years earlier, it was a perfect view out to the plains.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666; font-size: small;">Horsetooth Reservoir at dusk</span><span style="text-align: justify;"> </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We continued on, following right at the base of the Front
Range all the way up to Fort Collins. Once there, we also ventured out at
sunset to Horsetooth Reservoir which hangs over the city damned in within a
unique geological ridge. Once again, the roads were made for driving and very
much reminded us of the Port Hills of Christchurch. The road hung to the side
of the hill with city views, then steeply dipped off to the water body on the
other side along with dry tussocky vegetation. Then we headed in to meet our
host for the stay and finally ventured out to try find a beer on the
Thanksgiving evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The following day, we thought we should try to explore
somewhat before starting our beer journey through the city. On the suggestion
of our host, we headed up the Cache La Poudre River for some more canyon
driving. This was an exceptional piece of road that wound its way up 5,000ft in
the tightest most exciting driving I have been privileged to experience. At one
point, there was literally nothing but the creek and road surrounded by
towering walls. Makes sense as to the warning signs for flash flooding. But for
us, it was a sunny mild morning of exhilarating acceleration.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The day that followed was a walking adventure of Fort
Collins finest breweries. Starting from our Airbnb, we walked through some less
than picturesque industrial area, with a sever lack of footpaths to the however
amazing Funkworks., Inc. Brewing only using the traditional saison yeast, these
guys were innovating using age old Belgian style mixed with new world
experimentation. The beers were fantastic, heavily featuring New Zealand hops, their
sours were first class. A few drinks and a tour and we were off to a great
start. Just around the corner was the Horse and Dragon, a relatively new
facility where we met the owner who could tell a story or two, which he did on
the tour. We grabbed a sample flight, enjoyed the quality beers and the superb
atmosphere of a tasting room baked in the afternoon sun and very much
appreciated the immaculate state of the art brewery cellar.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Very concerned at this point that our time line was
slipping, but actually not too concerned, we merrily meandered closer into town
to the Fort Collins Brewery at their brand new and very sterile feeling
facility. The fact that it was happy hour was the only good thing to be taken
away from this commercialized joint. White walls, fluorescent lights and
smelling like a dirty mop bucket, we were happy to be shortly headed two doors
down to the infamous Odells Brewing Co. With some of the tastiest beers in the
country, we were very excited to sample some of their pilot beers only
available from the brewery itself. It was a tough call what to get, steering
away from APA, Pale Ales and IPAs that we knew we would love and might be able
to find else where we went for the tart, smelly feet and sour varieties that
they had concocted. We got what we asked for thats for sure. We were impressed
with some and others pushed our tolerances of this new emerging style. The tasting room was packed, so with an
outside food truck we nestled next to a fire pit for a bit to eat, so happy as
to where we were.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3BI4PuHMfuHCukY5tt7D3cFnosmXIhLYF8AgKfcFXd5E3wyVQxCZ9V0Tmgwjk2_JxdB4x_CePJ8MMcASs6wm4wadxynnu46xetp4c6JBOT39iCJT8DmWvlFkuyiTlzxaqSEtQiw2yIQ/s1600/IMG_1836.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_3BI4PuHMfuHCukY5tt7D3cFnosmXIhLYF8AgKfcFXd5E3wyVQxCZ9V0Tmgwjk2_JxdB4x_CePJ8MMcASs6wm4wadxynnu46xetp4c6JBOT39iCJT8DmWvlFkuyiTlzxaqSEtQiw2yIQ/s320/IMG_1836.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCH3ijLrwSbqdjY5T6535SRK_4A9AwhVaXg8xQMwAV4IFoQXdtgoWydnmGWeq-B4KdHs_r4mfTmpXe-889q237tzyi2Gq-ndJEypq3oOGt9H6Lxz7dyfuasj4WJye7nH6VJ776XhHJu50/s1600/IMG_1832.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCH3ijLrwSbqdjY5T6535SRK_4A9AwhVaXg8xQMwAV4IFoQXdtgoWydnmGWeq-B4KdHs_r4mfTmpXe-889q237tzyi2Gq-ndJEypq3oOGt9H6Lxz7dyfuasj4WJye7nH6VJ776XhHJu50/s320/IMG_1832.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The behemoth of New Belgium was next. Famous or its Fat Tire
Amber Ale, they have really been able to go crazy and get creative after that
windfall. A big pioneer in the souring department and generally just making
first class beer. Again, the tasking room, well really its a true bar, was
hopping. We enjoyed our beers until closing time at the very reasonable time of
8pm. Having made our way right into town, now we were at our final brewery of
the trip, Equinox. A super hipster joint right in old town, it had live music
and a beer list to die for. I was very happy to have myself a Rye Pale Ale, and
maybe my taste buds had gone through a bit of a twisting and touring over the day,
but something smelt a bit funny. The beer tasted good but something was off. It
turns out the stamp they had given us at the door had a horrendous smell of
sticking plasters, so every time I took a sip, the smell of a first aid kit
went wafting over my pallet. That was a shame, but we still enjoyed the
brewery, and the manager was intrigued and very much agreed when he put the
stamper up to the olfactory.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Old Town Fort Collins</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Making our way home at a fairly reasonable hour, we stumbled
upon D.P Dough, a chain calzone takeout restaurant. Having been introduced to
this when I visited Amy at university many years earlier, it was an
appropriately greasy and late night snack and we couldn't turn down the two
dollar pint of New Belgium as an add on. Happily, I can announce that hangovers
were not present the following day and just a quick two and a bit hours drive
we were back up in the mountains via our third canyon of the trip: Golden
Canyon, every bit as good at the others. The car ate up the corners and
monstered in the overtaking lanes. Pretty epic Thanksgiving.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The RX7 loves road trips</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-9618421284134093432016-11-18T17:54:00.000-08:002017-01-03T17:56:18.174-08:00Quandry Peak<br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">After having Andrew around and taking him out on some walks, it really struck us that soon it will be very much winter and having the option to jump out for a nice walk and explore will not so much be an option. So a day after he left, we thought if we were going to go, we might as well go big and go high. Quandry Peak at 14,265ft or 4,347m was the target and our first "14er". So we trotted off with the dogs in tow and they were our guides as they are seasoned 14er climbers. Annoyingly, Keona decide to get lost early on in the climb through the forest, as were we puffing and panting and just staring at the ground in front of us with each step, so we didn't notice for a bit. So I then ran back down the trail 15 mins or so to locate the missing mutt.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Once back above the tree line, we were faced with the straight ridge line rising and rising above everything else around. At this point the wind was really starting to whip around, but it didn't seem to bother the dogs too much. Tinkerbell would walk right by my side and Keona would sprint up, turn around and run back down, only then to repeat it. Getting to the final steps ascent, the last few hundred meters to the top, it was slow going. The legs had begun to feel like lead and navigating the boulder field was tiresome. One last burst of energy was required once we peered over the summit to see a beautiful mountain goat, and then that mutt Keona took off after it, and I took off after them.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvpFGNCosOsKnG07UJ2PDbAAz5TNlJrlNejOIn6BiCPPIYirCqTIO3tx1a60Yw0BOVPLx53Ies0t5xTesS6a80TKuL7tpJYZdjWz93kn5sX6aalHLi9Zuf_GTrAG-CLmtASHHioNaAQo/s1600/2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVvpFGNCosOsKnG07UJ2PDbAAz5TNlJrlNejOIn6BiCPPIYirCqTIO3tx1a60Yw0BOVPLx53Ies0t5xTesS6a80TKuL7tpJYZdjWz93kn5sX6aalHLi9Zuf_GTrAG-CLmtASHHioNaAQo/s640/2.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The highest place we've ever been on Earth</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">At this point we were alone on the summit, with panorama views in all directions getting battered with ice cold wind. With frozen fingers, we clumsily ate our sandwiches while crouched between rocks for shelter, encouraging the dogs to cuddle us for extra warmth. We had a quick appreciative scan of our surroundings and then pointed our noses downhill. With wobbly legs we descended, while along the ridge we spotted a pair of mountain goats coming across our course. We stopped, while I held the dogs back because I'm sure there was nothing more that they would love to do than chase the pair off into the distance, or a off a cliff. They walked right across the trail in front of us, completely in their element, they stood as tall as a bull, jacked shoulders with huge snow white coats flowing in the wind so majestically, not even bothered by our presence. From there it was just trudging on down and trying not to be blown away as the wind was only getting more ferocious. Our timing was right on for taking the opportunity to make the trip, as the following day winter truly arrived.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqKm6gYyCOMJw81iMJHbQSfeAa-X17vw8vb6Jtfnj_FQZEqkuLD9N8CmqWaaAv4Ol_-QHeQSb99tltDAJkhB4-UlJV7AI5ohf7NzX5hDmlxdkmMIFrUrv5wOGKVBpTDTaiM9zquR0Nufg/s640/DSCN4117.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">A Rocky Mountain Goat</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-86332852531442974732016-11-16T18:57:00.000-08:002017-01-02T18:57:35.194-08:00Andrew's Visit<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPSRCC-7eXaF6kzJUxMbVa37Q9I2F-tNLssFZKKjbpGYFJ-u2Nts52ox93wMBenxHyxwdJyfgaMNUi-mUBrTbbQ7EbB8s9SCBPQXBmkm0QczCEJkx9CPoSOtPXf7OynaqckzsKOVJn18Q/s640/photo+1+%25281%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Andrew atop Mt Elizabeth with Lake Dillon below.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Our good friend and old flatmate Andrew from New Zealand came out to visit us for a long weekend in early November. That weekend being the intended opening weekend for the mountain, but due to the unseasonably mild autumn we were having, the weather was fine and there was little snow, even on the high mountain tops. That worked out well for us, as Andrew wasn't here to ski and instead climbing on foot was what we wanted to do. We collected him from the shuttle right in town and headed to one of our favorite spots, Downstairs at Eric's for a pizza and a pitcher of fine IPA. Hanging out and catching up was mad, especially with all the stories to tell and hear. Andrew has been living in Sweden for the last year completing his masters in mathematics and currently is doing an internship in Silicon Valley in California. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdOq2xjVAS8ii3OZohMTUT3QkTYUcK_eMv_zt9j0_hWFJPLKTfc8hNZdKT-SJ_JNIvXElBhgNkJx7FnhnUhRA7T8JXcbDcQ-tMBIQyaXhGpCpg7Lk9wRzg7podQI8vPKyGg884wiUnnWA/s400/photo+3+%25281%2529.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Looking South along the Ten Mile Range to Peak Two.</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfifmVwk6zHpADdvF3E8sQZTHazhf547MPpOL_KyyZsOl-RwlimyddhqyJad4rktJHZYdgsxGFTnZloaJ93lQtLbN3qGT0aTXB6ICXS1_aPrCMTYcrAFOlsUdsh8O2xZUp2Psw5SFpIAE/s1600/photo+4+%25281%2529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfifmVwk6zHpADdvF3E8sQZTHazhf547MPpOL_KyyZsOl-RwlimyddhqyJad4rktJHZYdgsxGFTnZloaJ93lQtLbN3qGT0aTXB6ICXS1_aPrCMTYcrAFOlsUdsh8O2xZUp2Psw5SFpIAE/s320/photo+4+%25281%2529.JPG" width="239" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Not messing round, the next morning Andrew and I headed up to the summit of Mt Elizabeth, also known as Peak one because its the first peak of ten in the Ten Mile Range. Located further down the Ten Mile Range is Breckenridge Ski Resort spread over from Peak Six to Peak Ten. The walk starts just down the road in the town of Frisco, where you quickly take on an almost vertical path that just keeps going and going. We weren't sure if we would make it right to the top, but the snow was very thin up high and we traversed on the windward side of the ridge to avoid any wind drift. We went slow and steady over a small craggy section with some icy patches and consequences, but happily made it to the top for some egg sandwiches and fantastic views. We were joined by two of the house dogs, Keona and Tinkerbell, who just hustled up and down and all over the show like a bunch of spastics. The hike, climbing from just under 3,000m (9843ft) up to just under 4,000m (13123 ft) was a good first day test for Andrew coming straight from sea level. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQrcpzLw7tS_dSikSb2DuR3Rgt2UR2tY-cv6EYVCwVaQ_uuQM-s0hPy0f3XeYCIPJAq0uuIOoWVIkXRDINIm9rsrnvbOBQR0REWQwSGndFMJavLedRkLhfCyH72zz6jh6APZLUtszw-8/s1600/DSCN3940.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVQrcpzLw7tS_dSikSb2DuR3Rgt2UR2tY-cv6EYVCwVaQ_uuQM-s0hPy0f3XeYCIPJAq0uuIOoWVIkXRDINIm9rsrnvbOBQR0REWQwSGndFMJavLedRkLhfCyH72zz6jh6APZLUtszw-8/s320/DSCN3940.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="color: #666666;">Not to slow down, the next day, with Amy in tow, three of us headed for the Mohawk Lakes Trail to the south of town. Having been given the advice that with our mad 4x4 we should continue past the main car park area and take the 4x4 track a few miles further avoiding the long walk in and getting right to the good stuff. Having never tackled any real off roading and being a tad nervous about the capabilities of our new/very old vehicle, we progressed cautiously. As the Bronco happily covered the terrain we happily mobbed up the track passing walkers and other parked vehicles that must have decided the rough trail was too much for their new and shiny trucks, which I imagine are most commonly used for running the kids to school. We made it over a few decent obstacles but came upon a large downward hill and decided to call it there, considering getting down would be no problem, but the uphill test was not something I was looking to experiment with just that day. That the final car parked was only a few hundred meters further, and being only one very equipped looking Jeep Wrangler, I'll take second place. Considering those Jeeps go for $45,000+, I felt like the winner.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6KuQzSoR2djitNMTKwWINLhp7UHGvpW2LqDFsVZkrcGSNyJvGZk61Om74eEeLawvGhxUHy8QegUijl-ol4qRfpsy2ISU7jvMGWngeKDkUIC7JmUD8MWoUL5gEQfqSOapkI8uiohTfE0/s1600/DSCN3977.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl6KuQzSoR2djitNMTKwWINLhp7UHGvpW2LqDFsVZkrcGSNyJvGZk61Om74eEeLawvGhxUHy8QegUijl-ol4qRfpsy2ISU7jvMGWngeKDkUIC7JmUD8MWoUL5gEQfqSOapkI8uiohTfE0/s400/DSCN3977.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Andrew climbing above Lower Mohawk Lake</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The walk and the lakes themselves were absolutely stunning. Less of a vertical climb, it was pleasant walking over upward undulating terrain, coming over each hummock to a new lake that was just clinging to the mountain floor wedged between the very steep walls to the north and south climbing thousands of feet above us. At the second lake of the day, the first of the Mohawks Amy and I stopped for some scenic acroyoga, and tortured the dog by putting it in a old mining rail cart. Round that lake we sort of lost the trail and forged our own path up a cool slope in the sun, popping out high on a large open flat and eventually bumping back into the trail. We walked a bit further to what we though was the second of the lakes, now very much in an environment transitioning into winter, frozen lake water now, snow accumulation and bitterly cold wind. We hid for protection in some rocks and had lunch and headed back, when the trail dropped us down to another large lake, actually the second lake. Turns out, we had previously hit a third bonus lake. Here we sat down, and Keona terrified some other hikers by running right out to the middle of the lake to retrieve a rock we had thrown, testing Andrew's theory that a rock strike will produce a cool echo reverberation upon impact. It did, and Keona slid around like the clown she is and surprisingly her feather like frame didn't rupture the ice surface and the rock did make a cool sound. Descending down the trail now, a far more icy and dangerous route than our journey up, we slowly moved down taking much care as a slip would not have been funny.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwYhhZItvNOObz-O16mOc6InMs01CfD1guy5RKCJJfZY83pzIJHE67hfyd8XukzXTEQwVvCM6RbbRrCkZHb6zAop1AJNA0WDDl8yyl9e_ZFcfhu0ZdYGzlcrmO_Cv9a4_R2O5spWonyQ/s1600/DSCN3987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggwYhhZItvNOObz-O16mOc6InMs01CfD1guy5RKCJJfZY83pzIJHE67hfyd8XukzXTEQwVvCM6RbbRrCkZHb6zAop1AJNA0WDDl8yyl9e_ZFcfhu0ZdYGzlcrmO_Cv9a4_R2O5spWonyQ/s400/DSCN3987.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Climbing to the third Mohawk Lake</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Taking Andrew for a bit of a tour of the county, on our last day together, we headed over to Keystone. Walking through the village, it was barren and empty other than a few unfortunate people who had booked an early season ski trip to be unlucky now not being able to ski. No problems for us, the resort still had a large checkers and chess set in the plaza. </span><span style="color: #666666;">Surprisingly, I conquered over the visiting mathematician in a well fought game of oversized checkers, claiming oxygen depravation for his lack of performance. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zmY06tQZSbkDv77FaJQxYCRZlhGj_NqIi3GEO34UY2HTGZTU92IWNovdcx3KdtPv2NZLOvZ1EjYgOql5bYpGXdyCtBtlRbOe3ZxYsbrbPg71htcXg95m4f-eW4Gw5_tNUzpa2gdgxyM/s1600/IMG_1791.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7zmY06tQZSbkDv77FaJQxYCRZlhGj_NqIi3GEO34UY2HTGZTU92IWNovdcx3KdtPv2NZLOvZ1EjYgOql5bYpGXdyCtBtlRbOe3ZxYsbrbPg71htcXg95m4f-eW4Gw5_tNUzpa2gdgxyM/s400/IMG_1791.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Serious Checkers</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Further on we headed up Loveland Pass, making it one switch back short of the pass, at which point the Bronco lost all its torque, seeming to have hit a vertical wall. Topping out at 3,655m (11992 ft) its not surprising the car would go no further, bit of a bummer though because it sort of means we are currently trapped in the county. We took in the view from the pull off and made our way back to the Dillon Disc Golf course. An uber scenic course, throwing across a scrubby landscape with the lake and mountains as the backdrop. We were only halted by a long search for a disc from a super elevated tee and called it a day at 9 holes once finding the missing disc. Back in town we stopped by the Distillery for a tour and a cocktail and then jumped over to Broken Compass Brewery just around the corner for a last pint and a round of Cards Against Humanity with some strangers. Early the next morning, borrowing Phil's car, we headed down to Denver Airport to send Andrew back of to California after a mad long weekend visit. We were so happy to have Andrew to visit, and will be happy to host and show you all the stops for anyone who makes the effort to make it out. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsivrCY5WhdboVX-RH0sOe-rBPjzpqN_JIaGn_2TEm4l4TGv6Z4d6_lomMUvdvtxl5mDPdH8cBOmA41ifP3RyllTD17mtlIr-G_J_92YzzFZYOQwEqwOB6pLYXYorDa7M2_BxpQ0zezQ/s1600/DSCN4005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUsivrCY5WhdboVX-RH0sOe-rBPjzpqN_JIaGn_2TEm4l4TGv6Z4d6_lomMUvdvtxl5mDPdH8cBOmA41ifP3RyllTD17mtlIr-G_J_92YzzFZYOQwEqwOB6pLYXYorDa7M2_BxpQ0zezQ/s640/DSCN4005.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Tinkerbell loving the company and the view</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-54757077652936944252016-11-05T18:07:00.000-07:002017-01-02T18:50:37.704-08:00The Bronco<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKstIz-b7E00HAY_GbYENY0QiDHywbyhiOPJf0BMe1tpiIXoxw1KiYCnsJvVLlB4o1FRdj8495VtPcaBMfgyeR_YuovhcbBtxt-4JHwzrLoyQ-0uuIbxCnebVkiUNXoZKCEKPyWEh7LY/s1600/photo+4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKstIz-b7E00HAY_GbYENY0QiDHywbyhiOPJf0BMe1tpiIXoxw1KiYCnsJvVLlB4o1FRdj8495VtPcaBMfgyeR_YuovhcbBtxt-4JHwzrLoyQ-0uuIbxCnebVkiUNXoZKCEKPyWEh7LY/s640/photo+4.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">At her new home</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">I jumped on my phone for a moment while production stopped late in the evening one night at the distillery. I browsed on the local community Facebook page, 'One Man's Junk', always on the look out for a bargain of any kind. Then I stumbled upon, only posted minutes earlier, a 1989 Ford Bronco II. What followed was a quick message to pop over and take a look the following morning and once I got home, a quick mention of my intentions to a sleeping Amy. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The key to scoring the bargains are get in quick. Thats it, and thats what I did. I was the first person to message and right there first thing in the morning. The deal was easy to make as the truck was a little old gem and the price was beyond right. There I was, the proud owner of a piece of 1980's American motoring. Beige-on-brown exterior, with only a touch of surface rust with an all over beige interior, in good condition, with that perfect old musty car smell, five speed manuel, with rear wheel drive/4x4 and 4x4 low modes and coming with a spare set of snow tires too! All of this coming for a very, very reasonable three digit price tag, supplemented with a bottle of bourbon. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Learning the ins and outs of an older vehicle is critical to appreciating an old cheap car. So over the first few weeks, there were moments of frustration wondering what the hell was going on, but all these quirks now just add to the character. However, it was frustrating trying to work out why the heater and indicators would only sporadically work and driving down the highway while the car felt as though it was going to shake itself apart. No dramas, its all about how you turn the key and what mode the 4x4 is in. One day, while the weather was mild, I also did a bit of rust cutting on the rust on the passenger door. A wire wheel brush on the drill, a bit of bog filler and a sand back and now we have a nice grey primer patch rather than rust. Just need some more warm weather to do the color match paint and she'll be golden, well beige I guess.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0HRNo6ZFz9SMqCxx5JusGNn2uqtsm9UZtEhtlnuhEr4EmSxoPv1dKihm8SK506TUMoRyC7hccoK0C6YLPskhLlcK0veCNRPeFaJVqKL6IQLHilkWazeRqgpm_SDw0bpsrr-8P5gpXvA/s1600/DSCN4048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc0HRNo6ZFz9SMqCxx5JusGNn2uqtsm9UZtEhtlnuhEr4EmSxoPv1dKihm8SK506TUMoRyC7hccoK0C6YLPskhLlcK0veCNRPeFaJVqKL6IQLHilkWazeRqgpm_SDw0bpsrr-8P5gpXvA/s640/DSCN4048.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Most of the way up Loveland Pass.</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-72145083152022467232016-10-28T20:28:00.000-07:002016-12-22T20:29:24.204-08:00The Wild West <div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWMx0oReV2EpcgfhaDIw8TSX8gFUOZiOoDZ4cEmVbDpS3PJ9ugg5FOlsyAcldyRFUwsc_JEc7xd_RnBHRdWr81mUFeqfiycOpi42ggVldjtSM_cpClvwFvFVdqDdJ-ByjxLbP1ls4qqzU/s640/DSCN3412.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Gorgeous Colorado</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Having not started work yet, and considering that the weather was positively beautiful, we headed off for a little trip down to Southern Colorado. Aiming first for Mesa Verde National Park, and then for Great Sand Dunes National Park, we had chosen to grab a rental car on a off season special rate. The little Sonic Turbo was a bit of a beast, still getting ridiculous fuel efficiency, but with a little zap of the turbo at 3000rpm she kicked up the dust for sure. So we headed west from Breckenridge on I-70, where we quickly realised this was going to be as much about the journey as it will be our two destinations. We were in awe as we winded through the Glenwood Canyon, where somehow they have squeezed two travel lanes each directing within the steep walls almost right on top of the river. Probably one of the most spectacular interstate routes for sure.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The drive south</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Just from looking at the map and planning a route based on the little dotted lines indicating scenic roads, we turned off the interstate heading south. Again, having no real expectations other than that we were to be journeying through the mountains, we were absolutely taken to another level of beauty and driving bliss. We were quickly winding up through a narrow mudstone canyon then popping out high up into the Grand Mesa National Forest. High alpine lakes hanging to the side of the pine covered tops, it really doesn't get much more spectacular. We made a few stops to sit and look, but there was just too many beautiful lookout spots, so we were happy to watch it all pass us as we wound up over and back down. We made our way through what is called the 'Western Slope', a dry high plains area, with pockets of small towns and groves of fruit trees and the sort. Ducking off onto a smaller road heading past the famous Telluride Ski Resort, we were passing across the Western edge of the Rio Grande National Forest, where the peaks grew towering high and ominously jagged.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The sunset at Mesa Verde</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Making it to our destination very near the South Western corner of Colorado, we set up camp with a setting sun at the Mesa Verde National Park, with just enough light to quickly dash up the towering massif sitting at the the gate of the park to see the sun drop below the horizon over the high plans expanse with those rugged towering peaks north where we had just journeyed. To make the most of the day, we woke up before sunrise and we were happy to be headed deeper into the park and catch the sunrise over the sloping scrubby gorged plains, where we were about to explore and find the cliff homes of the Ancestral Puebloans.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6PZq0eiGV2YNswJAlx_RBlrs869J-MOh7NcWwDri6q9_nWVhxxIavJrHqCiLcyxyRFcuxCyvX9ubYuxQ0CaSfu5LES4faEEH7Ak_KP6aINOlqQ4eKoy5rsL_gl5J4VTJHVqtLgCbIxY/s640/DSCN3513.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The Cliff Palace</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLXrtff6U9PnJGMAwbUhOIfrHYxy9ce9R42wV27Dw-UTpVZjJtEMzfJdg5yD5t42d-pWVRzqhDQ0AB42mkjJJPQ5dJpcWiRBdTug83fimAjalOnEKHFVlmSFPq42i6CUMi3_gJdXFxUg/s1600/DSCN3529.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLXrtff6U9PnJGMAwbUhOIfrHYxy9ce9R42wV27Dw-UTpVZjJtEMzfJdg5yD5t42d-pWVRzqhDQ0AB42mkjJJPQ5dJpcWiRBdTug83fimAjalOnEKHFVlmSFPq42i6CUMi3_gJdXFxUg/s320/DSCN3529.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;">What American National Parks do best is make these special places accessible to all. So we spent the morning driving about convenient roads with a car park right by each area of interest. We started to feel dizzy getting in and out for the car so often, but we did see a lot. A beautiful dry environment, and a plateau carved with endless gorges, canyons and gullies. A place seemingly uninhabitable, however for a many hundred years around 800AD the Pueblo people called this place home, moving from above ground dwelling to wedging very intricate settlements of living and worship spaces into narrow shelves under on hanging cliffs. Settlements of 400 plus rooms, living quarters and kivas, linked with ladders and steps. Seen as an adaption for protection from attack and the elements, however at a certain point they just up and left. During the peak season you can take guided walks through a few dwellings, but we were happy to peer from across the way, appreciating the scale and space these people once lived amongst. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Amy feeling small amongst the dunes</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ81nqLr4jtkwBIpXzFfbjV5LxyNIn3AbGF-hbFFgXEt94i5iiJj2q0swKC8rFfkrJ01HvZe8qC8Pmh6OM7tThyF32VbQd1oZorOKfzwO96ewp_e1lgZGI-Xtj_T3UHjmi9FL6HlOK0ys/s1600/DSCN3735.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ81nqLr4jtkwBIpXzFfbjV5LxyNIn3AbGF-hbFFgXEt94i5iiJj2q0swKC8rFfkrJ01HvZe8qC8Pmh6OM7tThyF32VbQd1oZorOKfzwO96ewp_e1lgZGI-Xtj_T3UHjmi9FL6HlOK0ys/s320/DSCN3735.JPG" width="240" /></span></a></div>
<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">After the morning visiting the park, we headed east to the Great Sand Dunes National Park. Again, the journey was as great as the destination. We headed through Durango to Pagosa Springs for lunch. We were welcomed by the biggest plume of smoke coming from town. Seemed the local steakhouse had caught ablaze overnight and was smoldering in a wrecked pile with multiple fire appliances still dowsing the remains. Heading on, we headed over Wolf Creek Pass, another badass switch back road that just seemed to climb and climb. The little Chevy turbo ate up the road passed the Wolf Creek Ski Field, which receives the highest annual snowfall in Colorado. Again, ducking out of the Rio Grande National Forest we found ourselves traveling across a large high plain area within the San Luis Valley, headed for what didn't seem like such a spectacular gray blob in the far distance. Well it turned out the grey blob grew and grew and grew until we were upon this great golden dune field wedged up against the Sangre de Cristo Mountain range. Making camp again just in time to head for a walk up the side hills to see the sun set once again, but this time over a very different landscape. Later we enjoyed a campfire and a stunning show of stars.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Another early morning adventure out into the dune field, we had free range of the terrain, no paths or trails to follow. Just follow others footprints or make your own. We headed for the less direct route to the top of Star Dune, the highest point in the park. From the top, the view was inspiring, and the idea of leaping down the steep slope was too good to turn down. With each leap and bound my feet would heave deep into the sand slope producing a somewhat unsettling sound like I was creating a large sand avalanche, none happened however. Shoes filled with sand did though. We traversed out along the dunes, sat and enjoyed the warmth, tranquility and the loneliness of being out ahead of the light autumn crowds. We made our way back and across the river that simply just runs and disappears into the sand. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Feeling small amongst the Rockies</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvJPDbxG0HcxpnyxwGvjh262MhRr6BZy_kAkkHzWiT4xCqkDDptR2eCdppN0AiGsvAWLz4MqMA2FiqSHTJM3ogGwrWmkSk68n0ht_y8lwNfkg1YcQoKhK10BJPBhJiOjAZIpEU0DePsU/s1600/DSCN3815.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkvJPDbxG0HcxpnyxwGvjh262MhRr6BZy_kAkkHzWiT4xCqkDDptR2eCdppN0AiGsvAWLz4MqMA2FiqSHTJM3ogGwrWmkSk68n0ht_y8lwNfkg1YcQoKhK10BJPBhJiOjAZIpEU0DePsU/s320/DSCN3815.JPG" width="320" /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;"></span><br />
<span style="color: #666666;">Continuing on our way back home to Breckenridge, we headed directly north towards Buena Vista through some less spectacular scenery, however still gorgeous wide open valleys with high, daunting mountains to the side. Very reminiscent of the Cass Range in New Zealand, making me feel very content. We made our way into Park County, the home of the cartoon Series South Park, and over Hosier pass and back to our home of Summit County. Just a quick trip away, that turned out to be a real welcome to the Wild West.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Great Sand Dunes</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-7439656222426577042016-10-16T20:03:00.000-07:002016-12-17T20:06:58.927-08:00High Life <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB2cPLwwdR583EnLAx1FNVB-kOyZgkLh8q_GAoqzPMUXhGnZq6PGEYY1JTOGcMw-a6fe3I4AjLAkSMkCRZQCAxPY6CNiZQcDKd11-yG_Z6E8LoWIDtJL3QFKLh0aS00-6WV2BEdt5y6I/s1600/IMG_1647.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSB2cPLwwdR583EnLAx1FNVB-kOyZgkLh8q_GAoqzPMUXhGnZq6PGEYY1JTOGcMw-a6fe3I4AjLAkSMkCRZQCAxPY6CNiZQcDKd11-yG_Z6E8LoWIDtJL3QFKLh0aS00-6WV2BEdt5y6I/s640/IMG_1647.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Our mountain house</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXROQVjMaylo8JUxX3gjieN_d_L5WGvPb7s2QtvVhDXqkQoEkpth4F81JhR5Cb8cIhcN610-ORkfldXFoZi2UlDXJOpbT1vQ17a-W64BdGMoyc8mNrtJz-58Ljid8WDO0RW_rKf2fpV4/s1600/IMG_1717.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrXROQVjMaylo8JUxX3gjieN_d_L5WGvPb7s2QtvVhDXqkQoEkpth4F81JhR5Cb8cIhcN610-ORkfldXFoZi2UlDXJOpbT1vQ17a-W64BdGMoyc8mNrtJz-58Ljid8WDO0RW_rKf2fpV4/s320/IMG_1717.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #666666;"></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We made it, and now it was time to explore and make the most of our new home. Last year we had jobs out here but no house, so now that we had a place to live we figured finding work shouldn't be difficult, and it wasn't. Amy was quickly snapped up by a preschool and we made a bit of a brewery tour of the county to search for work for me. I was skeptical that I would just be able to walk up and get a brewing job and thats about how it panned out. Most local breweries are small in size and staffing, so they were hospitable to chat with and talk about beer, but unable to offer me anything. None the less, we had a great first week in the area, strategically visiting at happy hour having chats with the brewers and more often than not even getting shouted our beers. But for now no job.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With unseasonably mild weather across the first month of being out in the rockies we were provided the chance to really explore the area before we got snowed in. Perfect for exploring the trails that leave from right behind our house. These are an extensive network of town maintained trails for walking, running and biking, and like most things we do here, we usually have the dogs in tow too. On a nice ride I took one day with Tinkerbell chasing behind, I made it up the hill to the end of the trails, where I intersected a bunch of old mining sites, cottages, flumes, shaft towers and the sorts.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbi3lr1fFtmM1S0V_li91KJna9KUEaWVpZDcKqjqdwAYxQtnc75pWft9RQygdKvfXeGcd7fMKuDLIcN14YEcFTR5CNKe2Z7VWfePgO35dgBstNw-ztym-Qiam5-nsqF-1sVsBGdwXj1c/s1600/DSCN3343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfbi3lr1fFtmM1S0V_li91KJna9KUEaWVpZDcKqjqdwAYxQtnc75pWft9RQygdKvfXeGcd7fMKuDLIcN14YEcFTR5CNKe2Z7VWfePgO35dgBstNw-ztym-Qiam5-nsqF-1sVsBGdwXj1c/s640/DSCN3343.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Walking behind our house</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Wanting to be as social and meet as many new people as possible, we did everything that was suggested. We joined our flatmate's girlfriend's potluck dinner, a night of 7 different types of meatballs. We had a festive pumpkin carving at our house and a dodgeball tournament at the recreation center. That definitely put us in our place with our thin blood not quite giving us the oxygen that the demands of dodgeball at altitude requires. Actually, this was my fist proper participation into the American classic game, and it was fierce, competitive and lung pounding. With some defeats early on we strengthened to finish out in the semifinals. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eRBE4hCk57AoV7wa_EyUwlrpSn5toApGTXW3oCL14Qj2DD_8MTY9a0l7RhaSlNvyt3xPs3IHseFTri67jeyi3ct2miCPuAReu72aqXhno8prmxpK1KerAk8Gj7fFbrtQKd0J_5MMuX8/s1600/IMG_1636.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7eRBE4hCk57AoV7wa_EyUwlrpSn5toApGTXW3oCL14Qj2DD_8MTY9a0l7RhaSlNvyt3xPs3IHseFTri67jeyi3ct2miCPuAReu72aqXhno8prmxpK1KerAk8Gj7fFbrtQKd0J_5MMuX8/s400/IMG_1636.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Breckenridge Main Street</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The coincidental social outing with a last minute invitation to a bottling party at the Breckenridge Distillery, which is when the public is invited to help out bottling in return for some food and drinks for the evening and a bottle to take home, also ended with me taking home a job. Very coincidental, but things worked out perfectly for me.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLeN0XBS3S85o_efKJT59MghI6ROcszm5PxHkdp4iaYI3J7RAVS16yf-f8FEOrfdaIVZNp74qzrLr8rlYGe55hoZ_ayo5Cm_F5uCGxOQQmNqfrusDz66_PI08aJ_rctFvSG0YVFhjZ7E/s1600/IMG_1704.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCLeN0XBS3S85o_efKJT59MghI6ROcszm5PxHkdp4iaYI3J7RAVS16yf-f8FEOrfdaIVZNp74qzrLr8rlYGe55hoZ_ayo5Cm_F5uCGxOQQmNqfrusDz66_PI08aJ_rctFvSG0YVFhjZ7E/s320/IMG_1704.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVhBBbBTt7xQ94I7QnNrQdO_NjY-a5_MQES70E_-59RpSmaJJ-NMKn9yytfT67moqbRLq5LWZFx1hVVcTuu_zXZ-hzZ2D4tcY3W00fyrGs_RwzJFUE7A2du7NthZtEig2_Fl6Ooxij_I/s1600/IMG_1694.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIVhBBbBTt7xQ94I7QnNrQdO_NjY-a5_MQES70E_-59RpSmaJJ-NMKn9yytfT67moqbRLq5LWZFx1hVVcTuu_zXZ-hzZ2D4tcY3W00fyrGs_RwzJFUE7A2du7NthZtEig2_Fl6Ooxij_I/s320/IMG_1694.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">My new job, like Amy's, was working four 10 hour days during the week. My shifts are from noon to 10pm working on the packaging line. Putting booze in bottles and putting bottles in boxes. Nothing glamorous, but learning the packaging machines and occasionally helping out with the distillers is invaluable. Amy works in the two year old room at her preschool, and enjoys being responsible for organizing lessons and helping run a classroom.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuO9U-wCBHb2o_7n3GA7lbuuJ5V-ZZLjR6VJp8wT05pRfAwsA5QCid-TeTixD5zzzGcwBVqvoQ3Zghiy5cXX0DC1XZ-SBdZwD34E4R9W3IfGKcvo9fIhuz4L14I2q0-keL6ORrvLdFqs/s1600/IMG_1688.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGuO9U-wCBHb2o_7n3GA7lbuuJ5V-ZZLjR6VJp8wT05pRfAwsA5QCid-TeTixD5zzzGcwBVqvoQ3Zghiy5cXX0DC1XZ-SBdZwD34E4R9W3IfGKcvo9fIhuz4L14I2q0-keL6ORrvLdFqs/s320/IMG_1688.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwy9eKg-4pFE05Wr6Fc_mfucle3KHT9vRZ5D5dUnprL2jXnIB0eImqziQl0YvfwGTx3ad2y3KDI_vDCVBVozS4N8KaAZEGQCkqVxGoTvMpkmApak9FhaAH4iM4sfKQGNuGip4QZbKDRXM/s1600/IMG_1689.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwy9eKg-4pFE05Wr6Fc_mfucle3KHT9vRZ5D5dUnprL2jXnIB0eImqziQl0YvfwGTx3ad2y3KDI_vDCVBVozS4N8KaAZEGQCkqVxGoTvMpkmApak9FhaAH4iM4sfKQGNuGip4QZbKDRXM/s320/IMG_1689.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With the warm weather and plenty of spare time I also was keen to play around on may car. It was having a bit of a rough time overheating, leaking coolant and oil, so I thought I ought to try to remedy this, at least maybe learning something. So I jumped head first and started with pulling the engine apart and by utilising a piece of four by two and a couple of volunteers, we lifted the small but still very heavy engine out. We laid it down on the porch and then I just worried for days about what I had done and how I would fix it. I ordered a bunch of new parts, thermostat and oil seals, cleaned the engine and bay up a bit, switched some stuff over, then hoisted the power-plant back into the engine bay. With a bit of wiggling and jiggling and a few unnerving crack and creaks from the wood hoist, the engine was back in place and I just needed to put it all back together. That I did, over a few hours and with a few false starts, I got the engine turning over and running. Bummer was it still dripped coolant, so that means getting a new water pump, which has still yet to happen. So we just keep the fluids topped up for now, but other than that, the car runs good, I didn't break anything and I did learnt a lot.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The RX7 exploring Summit County</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-79814772117351993372016-10-15T12:15:00.000-07:002016-12-03T12:17:07.128-08:00Road Trip out West Day 5: Colorado<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Rocky Mountains, here we come! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">After a good experience driving the back roads in Kansas, we continued as soon as the opportunity came along to diverge off the interstate and head across the small plain towns leading across Colorado. Finding a small cafe in Limon with some tasty sugary baked treats and on we headed for Denver. Slowing and continually climbing up across the now more rolling plains, the Rocky Mountains were upon up, quickly growing from the horizon, towering from left to right as far as one could see.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYAMT71ABE7WJUwT4bd_cnfV30K_IwddmLE2pK8EK4CUpDEM_sMTvfsy3AzLeg6gOVn6sHonRKmevmDa3K_g88It7QnhsW5Q3OmienvXmpmYOiikiFfatuvEgRsAVe2F7xQ6XW2hb6c8/s1600/DSCN3333.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEYAMT71ABE7WJUwT4bd_cnfV30K_IwddmLE2pK8EK4CUpDEM_sMTvfsy3AzLeg6gOVn6sHonRKmevmDa3K_g88It7QnhsW5Q3OmienvXmpmYOiikiFfatuvEgRsAVe2F7xQ6XW2hb6c8/s400/DSCN3333.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Letting her cool and re-coop</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">As we were coming into Denver city, we aimed for a carburetor shop as I needed to change out the jets which control the flow of petrol to the engine. Seeing as we were now at 1,500 meters (mile high city) elevation and going to be climbing up and over 3,400m (11,200ft) and to our permanent height of 3,000m (9600ft), the oxygen to fuel ratio need to be adjusted. </span><span style="color: #666666;">Having preformed flawlessly across the entire drive, I was nervous coming into Denver and all my worst fears eventuated. Crawling stop-start traffic. I knew it wasn't going to be good, so we eventually exited but it was too late and the car stopped. So we sat on the side of the road for a while, feeling defeated, but knowing 30mins will allow it to cool and she will be back to life.</span><span style="color: #666666;"> That she was, so on we went to the carburetor shop. After getting the pieces I needed, thanks to the advice of the mechanic there, </span><span style="color: #666666;">I pulled apart the carburetor in the car park and put in the new smaller jets. After the carb was adjusted the car felt strong and we were off up the open roads climbing up into the High Rockies.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The drive on I-70 through the mountains is rather spectacular. Climbing up slopes that just seem to keep going, with old mining town and operations scattering the sides of the hills, lowering cliffs and summits high above. We were going slowly and getting passed by tractor trailers, but we made it to the highest point at the Eisenhower Tunnel, popped through and headed downhill into Summit County, our new home. After driving 3592km (2232miles) over five days, we rounded Lake Dillon up to Breckenridge, to our big log cabin house surrounded by the mountains of our dreams.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvyqrOdONViEupKXFCIS9HwSCbzK3w2bpojosfoiz2VgrsGPTYUX6MyB5hHQ_ZIEKEvNPf_PVeJ8brQoqyo4WZ77FrIYo7IRtAP_FrHxol0I2wzkgTmZdJDVaCgN32jOMsVjcJnYShYY/s1600/IMG_1605.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFvyqrOdONViEupKXFCIS9HwSCbzK3w2bpojosfoiz2VgrsGPTYUX6MyB5hHQ_ZIEKEvNPf_PVeJ8brQoqyo4WZ77FrIYo7IRtAP_FrHxol0I2wzkgTmZdJDVaCgN32jOMsVjcJnYShYY/s640/IMG_1605.JPG" width="480" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">She made it!</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-80131565499288523552016-10-13T11:53:00.000-07:002016-12-03T11:55:25.097-08:00Road Trip out West Day 4: Kansas<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuscq855T2TR4tN3m_uaaKNO_766sgGTCMOhY5B8kV1rWG5TVqTrDzC8G0aQV929rCDQyLdyEzU3lOPRz-hdPK31Buf05LDWvcBJdj-MvFedJXm1OWG_ldOK-ujUtOZzrePm0kKUwz7w/s1600/IMG_1336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="478" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpuscq855T2TR4tN3m_uaaKNO_766sgGTCMOhY5B8kV1rWG5TVqTrDzC8G0aQV929rCDQyLdyEzU3lOPRz-hdPK31Buf05LDWvcBJdj-MvFedJXm1OWG_ldOK-ujUtOZzrePm0kKUwz7w/s640/IMG_1336.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Tallgrass Pairire National Preserve </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We woke up early to raindrops on the tent, quite heavy at times. We timed our campsite breakdown perfectly during a break in the storm and we were off on what is supposed to be the most uninteresting day of driving for the trip. Turns out if you make the effort, get off the interstate and get out in search, there will be something to see, even while making great ground across the big flat state of tiny towns, hay bales and oil wells. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Heading south for 30 miles or so to the Tallgrass Prairie National Preserve, an area reserving the small remaining natural strawling grasses of the plains which once spanned for thousands of miles across middle America. Comprising of a preserved homestead and a large expanse of the rolling tall grasses and a information centre, when it was raining we hung out inside, and when there was another break, we opted to take a walk out into the hills, dodging raindrops at times. It was so peaceful, free and wild. The weather added some extra flare over the morning with some very dramatic formations. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">From there, we drove along a local road heading west. Passing occasionally through a small town or past farm houses, it offered a far more relaxed driving experience, but still ticking off the distance, only with occasional slowdowns to pass through a town or make a stop at a stop sign. Little real existence of life was seen. But passing a Mexican food truck in a sleepy town, we were blown away with the freshest and tastiest lunch ever. Whether he had few customers or was just incredibly friendly, he seemed to fuss over us so much. We were just extremely happy to be eating some fresh, healthy food and support a small business. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv24tfWjLyQ-rGY5hNmtyAv2lYlqy9Ykb_Lw4y7SjgsdahCPtrYyRm6UXTWZhD3pHaukmoOAbAI-enUHBYnNFRoTEDsB_nhyphenhyphenmI5AdXRdRZeqwunxm8UEp4Y_G5Xc5ivuZY8CBKp1TifU/s1600/DSCN3312.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv24tfWjLyQ-rGY5hNmtyAv2lYlqy9Ykb_Lw4y7SjgsdahCPtrYyRm6UXTWZhD3pHaukmoOAbAI-enUHBYnNFRoTEDsB_nhyphenhyphenmI5AdXRdRZeqwunxm8UEp4Y_G5Xc5ivuZY8CBKp1TifU/s640/DSCN3312.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">You know there was a "Do Not Climb" sign</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Making another detour to the Monument Rocks Chalk Pyramids, it was a bit difficult to find. Seems a bit bizarre, across a seemingly completely flat landscape. However this terrain was more on undulating with dry river gullies. Eventually coming upon the Monument Rocks, a few large outcroppings of sandy clay. Just poking right up in a completely barren state among brush and scrub. A geological treasure, we wandered around in the now steamy plains warmth, poked at fossils and once again just enjoyed the serene beauty. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-N9wsQOkIYMt2hJBq-8UKXpj9B7BHekB4YqmXvOqMd9dLXbL9wCmYPQHxEZbk7W0ZDyP88i5Z26U1V3_VSCoTmOhRjTinKC6byVKJTvpdLCeD9G7W84GcMl3JNTc0tao9pxUBU0nSl0/s1600/DSCN3327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO-N9wsQOkIYMt2hJBq-8UKXpj9B7BHekB4YqmXvOqMd9dLXbL9wCmYPQHxEZbk7W0ZDyP88i5Z26U1V3_VSCoTmOhRjTinKC6byVKJTvpdLCeD9G7W84GcMl3JNTc0tao9pxUBU0nSl0/s400/DSCN3327.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Pretending to paint</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With a bit more driving and eventually rejoining with the stampede along I-70, we stopped in Goodland, Kansas. Though not quite to Colorado, its just on the boarded and surprisingly into Mountian Standard Time, unlike the rest of Kansas. We put up our tent, and decided to explore the town a bit. We had a unique small town dive bar dinner, including Buds to drink and chicken, biscuits and gravy to eat, with Americana decorations wall to wall. We couldn't stop looking around. Also, somewhat seemingly out of place, there was a huge canvas and easel with the famous sunflowers painting by Vincent Van Gogh. Strange place. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBH5ac4NAYlIyMlGmy32h18KK2GTeBCY4t6pzfGD_slqzoQR-QsO9ej_MqfAmN4VyGaL36Nag10G5Bc6ywxkBMdnzGEdN5HZNpmc2KckcT5LWueX4rgpgx0uSgW3Sc0vvp-UDPIc8giQ/s1600/DSCN3318.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVBH5ac4NAYlIyMlGmy32h18KK2GTeBCY4t6pzfGD_slqzoQR-QsO9ej_MqfAmN4VyGaL36Nag10G5Bc6ywxkBMdnzGEdN5HZNpmc2KckcT5LWueX4rgpgx0uSgW3Sc0vvp-UDPIc8giQ/s640/DSCN3318.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The RX7 finding beauty in Kansas</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-59879531463619081432016-10-10T11:36:00.000-07:002016-12-03T11:39:54.397-08:00Road Trip out West Day 3: Missouri<div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsv_bkX88sTPLgPFgkInEtKYEL7NjVTWw57I5p_FpYdAM0SD1xhcHskhowqiA23jtBE0tfKkGbH9gJTxqvsFyFi0E0blV9uDXxFyu7io09Qx4DgK4bDEIrUU35WT20oIBKN1869TjC7Hw/s1600/DSCN3226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsv_bkX88sTPLgPFgkInEtKYEL7NjVTWw57I5p_FpYdAM0SD1xhcHskhowqiA23jtBE0tfKkGbH9gJTxqvsFyFi0E0blV9uDXxFyu7io09Qx4DgK4bDEIrUU35WT20oIBKN1869TjC7Hw/s640/DSCN3226.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Saint Louis</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Just a short drive across the Mississippi and we were in St Louis, Missouri and straight over to my favorite landmark ever. The St Louis Arch, called the Gateway Arch, seemingly floating about, towers in its unbelievable simplistic grander. Very meaningful for us on our journey west, we passed through on foot signifying we were onto territory uncharted, symbolically of course, making a new life for ourselves, like the original pioneers. We stepped down the stairs from the arch to the waters of the Mississippi, a position we have stood before. From here we could see that river headed in either direction, and heading to the south all the way to the gulf, about the same distance to the East Coast, the course that we had just tracked over several days, and now we were headed on Westward to our momentary destiny in the Rocky Mountains, a true crossroads on our journey.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0eCkwm4QTV1z-KtJmBg1ms8PGeVk5lCci_XFKXPDdq80VmyXsolzI0XAo4_XWCaonS2nPFxQJRIMOYTTvKL8pe9gIHxy_sAhOFBKfqQ-mJiljGISguCpyvkQMiEV1pkf7vXt15ZuGjS8/s1600/DSCN3237.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0eCkwm4QTV1z-KtJmBg1ms8PGeVk5lCci_XFKXPDdq80VmyXsolzI0XAo4_XWCaonS2nPFxQJRIMOYTTvKL8pe9gIHxy_sAhOFBKfqQ-mJiljGISguCpyvkQMiEV1pkf7vXt15ZuGjS8/s320/DSCN3237.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXvcK1pt3qow81D2jMxxt0EUqGdpwTcTLBhf8s9iOzqApkWWkXt79sMeH1FYMThTxYdRTUFNX-jXnsa6cEzP9ZgCSBQIHh8sZZpha4UY0W-TPhk6FbcLa8jvwIYAABfP-3S5la1oJvvk/s1600/DSCN3235.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXvcK1pt3qow81D2jMxxt0EUqGdpwTcTLBhf8s9iOzqApkWWkXt79sMeH1FYMThTxYdRTUFNX-jXnsa6cEzP9ZgCSBQIHh8sZZpha4UY0W-TPhk6FbcLa8jvwIYAABfP-3S5la1oJvvk/s320/DSCN3235.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1W_DcXaa3YJWqoXQhp0FTsvMPjwzCSH54FkodvDSMem7XlKXffqBrjSQTKhPYTsUjemhVuB5ggkJ3k4mu2CMD8jdoteaJ0rd-zpn75oms-r7NzDkTikZo68yXtlnDtA8rOSV9qG6FP1w/s1600/DSCN3248.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1W_DcXaa3YJWqoXQhp0FTsvMPjwzCSH54FkodvDSMem7XlKXffqBrjSQTKhPYTsUjemhVuB5ggkJ3k4mu2CMD8jdoteaJ0rd-zpn75oms-r7NzDkTikZo68yXtlnDtA8rOSV9qG6FP1w/s320/DSCN3248.JPG" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #666666;">To spy on the enemy, from inside the belly of the beast, we headed to the </span><span style="color: #666666;">Anheuser-Busch Brewery just north in town. The slower and friendlier pace of the central plains and midwesterners were apparently here, so much so we were able to have a conversation about the RX7 to a friendly passerby while driving round on the city ring road. He was very impressed that the car had the original engine and had brought us out this far from Connecticut. With a toot and a thumbs up, we parted ways. At the brewery, we were blown away, a completely mind altering experience, coming out with a refreshed and renewed appreciation for the InBev brewing goliath. One just pictures the mass production of generic beverages, but the way the site has retained its heritage and they way they present the whole facility and brewhouse is unparalleled to any brewery I have visited. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgcc5wspYU10A2Pn1zcCDOJBDQrcTAyxpzRZ6vg6N_dXa60SELafpwHYdX61dhbHCp3PPUMvHkVbPKMZQhTWFE2AsKpSznrpag_NkIq4xfgwK-izZWgEhqdTOiO0B0g2RMpK6TR-N-r0/s1600/DSCN3251.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsgcc5wspYU10A2Pn1zcCDOJBDQrcTAyxpzRZ6vg6N_dXa60SELafpwHYdX61dhbHCp3PPUMvHkVbPKMZQhTWFE2AsKpSznrpag_NkIq4xfgwK-izZWgEhqdTOiO0B0g2RMpK6TR-N-r0/s640/DSCN3251.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The brewhouse</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">An ornate brewhouse, with all the shiny stainless steel one could dream of, but with hundred year old decorative embellishments such as chandeliers with hop plants on them. They cellar Budweiser in enormous tanks, however still on wood chips and across the compound, beautifully presented of course, some happy looking clydesdales live to cart around all that beer. To finish it off, they gave us a pint in their beer garden. We could choose any beer from the selection of their domestic brands as well as import beers they brew onsite. A german bock for myself and a Dutch Weisse for Amy. Happy days and off we headed to cross the state of</span><span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;"> </span><span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">Missouri and into</span><span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;"> Topeka, Kansas for the night, once again setting up camp in the dark. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXRSYhJ77vED3ZpWQs59UJPs9ejAxibbHc7UKGYt_fZWuCgc9mIn-BzqRZJsmaOrfeoDzI10StJX6ZsSfkd0uSXEdI1pABFtL7qkGDWVbr-5U08XeoirmwCkyimkiYAMKOf_B269doe4/s1600/DSCN3258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXRSYhJ77vED3ZpWQs59UJPs9ejAxibbHc7UKGYt_fZWuCgc9mIn-BzqRZJsmaOrfeoDzI10StJX6ZsSfkd0uSXEdI1pABFtL7qkGDWVbr-5U08XeoirmwCkyimkiYAMKOf_B269doe4/s400/DSCN3258.JPG" width="300" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaXRSYhJ77vED3ZpWQs59UJPs9ejAxibbHc7UKGYt_fZWuCgc9mIn-BzqRZJsmaOrfeoDzI10StJX6ZsSfkd0uSXEdI1pABFtL7qkGDWVbr-5U08XeoirmwCkyimkiYAMKOf_B269doe4/s1600/DSCN3258.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2vYpbhOMCX1mrZNU5q8CqFPsASWq0tTmgShhKQHDw02OXmbh4HD0f2Go-Dcdab8f7B8kGiYq-i_e5-f_W8lepZSLqtFQf5EXR9I0awHnSqKsc2cPItdlwu65c3AyVg-jquJgRTPQNe8/s1600/DSCN3257.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg2vYpbhOMCX1mrZNU5q8CqFPsASWq0tTmgShhKQHDw02OXmbh4HD0f2Go-Dcdab8f7B8kGiYq-i_e5-f_W8lepZSLqtFQf5EXR9I0awHnSqKsc2cPItdlwu65c3AyVg-jquJgRTPQNe8/s400/DSCN3257.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-84668838859836917162016-10-09T11:15:00.000-07:002016-12-03T11:15:44.072-08:00Road Trip out West Day 2: Kentucky<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5qpCDkY7E-HhOo94p1nzKeG_lF3-4f56YCSPQB21mFKQ0ZAd-o4g59crns9iv5lgcNwBWWtXx9IeADU5dK0ejHrBTwJ4iiAtcKPgcsfpEof1UVto2Tjf1kuRewoUia5QnM_jYj6cJPg/s1600/DSCN3147.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO5qpCDkY7E-HhOo94p1nzKeG_lF3-4f56YCSPQB21mFKQ0ZAd-o4g59crns9iv5lgcNwBWWtXx9IeADU5dK0ejHrBTwJ4iiAtcKPgcsfpEof1UVto2Tjf1kuRewoUia5QnM_jYj6cJPg/s640/DSCN3147.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Crazy drive in Kentucky before all the horse farms</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Day two of our road trip was a scheduled day, of visiting distilleries, exploring the State of Kentucky and covering great ground. This meant for an early start as we had booked a 10am tour of Willett Distillery, which is the distillery that Two Roads Brewing Company sources their bourbon barrels for aging beers from. With that connection, my old brewmaster had organized with Willett to get us on a tour to explore the craft of distillation. On route, we drove down the Blue Grass Parkway across horse breeding country and into the historic town of Bardstown, with a historic downtown including a pub Abe Lincoln would frequent. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKYyLySglwj3LdQEqKFn-iX_2LvpJblnPVtDmsS83MWBCEem6l3XqKDQkiiPcW8rmHR_5xS_Kfe5YpIjyKelcKUObjIu3VUF6BVCYVro2SCOaJ7TE6f4HWG5p6-tNfC-dzDixDv6AjIA/s1600/DSCN3179.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXKYyLySglwj3LdQEqKFn-iX_2LvpJblnPVtDmsS83MWBCEem6l3XqKDQkiiPcW8rmHR_5xS_Kfe5YpIjyKelcKUObjIu3VUF6BVCYVro2SCOaJ7TE6f4HWG5p6-tNfC-dzDixDv6AjIA/s400/DSCN3179.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">With the endless barrels</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkXo99woShf1fKPxofJTp1zWnQ3ikqHCEV2M7tCUtmcDdMJq-fV5ZowI5kKkVgJd_JvgqXomnQRDRRjL2aN3hKvz_0RYr_wrQhDZRUxnxUNqVt6-c3wABunRVPwUTqbdK_-VIQJ4x55s/s1600/DSCN3152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOkXo99woShf1fKPxofJTp1zWnQ3ikqHCEV2M7tCUtmcDdMJq-fV5ZowI5kKkVgJd_JvgqXomnQRDRRjL2aN3hKvz_0RYr_wrQhDZRUxnxUNqVt6-c3wABunRVPwUTqbdK_-VIQJ4x55s/s320/DSCN3152.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="color: #666666;">On to the distillery and we were really blown away with the facility, history, process and friendly nature of the tour and tastings. I brought an offering of the Two Roads Conntucky Lightnin, a sour mash ale barrel aged in used Willet barrels. The facility was far more expansive than I imagined, spread across a large property. Consisting of a obscure looking building containing a fermentation cellar, towering still and silos, the proofing building, traditional in nature with barrel ramp to roll out the proofed down barrels and a series of barrel buildings containing to their entirety wall to wall floor to celling full bourbon barrels. An unbelievable amassing of product stored cellular in each barrel, so efficiently stacked, the room was just all bourbon. It was delightful to see the process, at what is considered a small and craft facility, where there was a obvious pride and passion among the staff and the heritage presented across the facility. I was amazed that I was encouraged to taste from all the fermentation vessels, noting the reduction of sweetness as fermentation progressed. It was interesting seeing the similarities and then the differences compared to brewing beer. One significant difference was the tasters, we are no bourbon connoisseurs, so we were happy to note the tastes that we had didn't burn like rocket fuel. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Jim Beam</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">We were in Bourbon Country after all, so we hopped along the road to the Jim Beam Distillery. Which was a place on a far greater scale, nearly the Disneyland of Bourbon. But I believe that does a disservice to the tried and tested and still traditional system of bourbon brewing. Other than making spirits on a huge scale, they still use real ingredients, following the stringent rules set long ago in the past of utilizing a 51% or more corn mash content and aging for a set minimum time on new American White Oak barrels. A cooper, or barrel maker, display was set up where the quite extraordinary barrel making process was explained, with a real life veteran cooper there happy to answer my many questions. Again, the facility was honoring a true family heritage that now had just grown to an unfathomable scale, but without losing that value, or at least the appearance of that value.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Finally a picture of Amy</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Heading across the sunny green rolling hills, we ducked into Churchill Downs racetrack, famous for the Kentucky Derby. Discovering the museum was $15, we opted to skip that, but we began walking with a tour group instead, listening to a bit of history, until we got busted for having not paid for the tour, whoops, so we headed off and on our way into Louisville city. There were a lot of athletic looking people around carting about their space age looking bikes and steel strong bods, and eventually it all made sense when we discovered it was the day before an Ironman event. We walked around the redbrick, industrial styled city centre, found a brewery and had a beer and some grub for lunch. A walk down to the Louisville Slugger baseball bat factory was a tribute to Amy's dad whom loves his Sluggers. Looking through the glass windows of the building we could see bats being spun and engraved and it made you feel less uneasy walking the streets knowing why everyone was wielding bats. After our quick look around, we drove on through Indiana and right across Illinois making camp on the east side of the Mississippi River across from St Louis, Missouri. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The RX7 in Kentucky bourbon country </span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-64236899944535375612016-10-08T10:52:00.000-07:002016-12-03T10:53:37.659-08:00Road Trip out West Day 1: West Virginia <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Catching the sunrise</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Day one of our westward journey started at 4am on the premise that I just wanted to get far, far away from the busy East Coast. Some nervousness was felt due to our transportation method, the reliable old RX7. It has never really let me down, but had been having some disagreements with traffic congestion, hence the early start to remove any chance of morning traffic in the tristate area, especially through NYC. The car was fueled up, packed up and smooth sailing it was from the get go. The long morning drive in overcast weather led us right out of Connecticut, across the Hudson into New York, over the top of New Jersey, through Pennsylvania, even nipping over Maryland and into Virginia all without making a stop, turn or barely changing gear. A quite exhausting morning of driving, but we were achieving what we set out to. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Now, by the afternoon, I was about sick of driving in a straight line and not seeing anything of value. Although a time through the rolling hills of Pennsylvania was more scenic than the rest, with lush green hills and mountainous clouds wisping over the tops and thick fog as we dropped down into valleys. With this inspiration that maybe we should aim to see something along the route, Amy navigated us on a more scenic route via the Seneca Rocks State Park in West Virginia. A beautiful series of local roads sent us climbing up and over the Appalachian Mountains, that we had been sidelining, and barreled us into the back woods of Blue Grass Country. Right at this time, the heavens opened up, and the rain came down. It felt as if it matched the mood of where we had just entered, as the area was green, lush with a tropical feel. We passed very little on the back roads, just beautiful winding roads following valley rivers. The only glimpse of life was ramshackle houses and cabins that darted by in the woods. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Walking to view the Seneca Rocks</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">At the State Park, a beautiful view waited for us hidden behind low clouds. The visitors centre was great with displays of the rugged area and with a break in weather, we made a short walk in the forest. Im not sure if it was that I felt like I had just escaped the crippling wretches of the cluster of Connecticut or if it truly was but that forest felt as wild of a place I had ever been, with the freshest air I had ever breathed. At that very moment I felt so relaxed, so fresh, so free and relieved. Breaking from the clouds for a moment, the Seneca Rocks appeared. Large, buttressing rocks poking from the forest, a haven for climbers and bird watchers. A quick photo shoot in the car park and we continued on some more local roads then back to the conveyor belt of the US Interstate System. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Seneca Rocks</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Picking out a KOA or 'Kampground of America' on the map, we made it most the way across West Virginia and just before sunset made it to our destination. Unfortunately, a local pumpkin festival ensured that the campsite was completely full, but the ladies there pointed us 45 mins further into our eighth state of the day, Kentucky and the next available KOA. Setting up the tent in the dark, after being on the go for 15+ hours, I was happy to lie in the tent with my head poking out, looking out at the vast night sky, something I had missed for so long. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The RX7 in West Virginia (Seneca Rocks are behind some clouds)</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-53140439757624002812016-09-22T21:22:00.000-07:002016-11-23T21:25:26.620-08:00Summing up Connecticut <span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Slashing around in the Berkshires</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">With our time coming to an end in Connecticut, we had a couple more adventures lined up before we headed out. Also a couple of trips and visits from friends before and after the wedding as our couches saw their fair share of visitors. The first of them was Simon, coming from Christchurch, NZ to do 'Camp America,' he was at home on our couch for a good week. Allowing him full range on the beer in the fridge, he was pretty easily pleased. We took him out and about to show him the adventures of Connecticut. He wasn't impressed, so we took him away from the hustle and bustle on a nice drive up route 7 all the way to Athol, Massachusetts. A beautiful few hours drive north through small Berkshire towns and forest draped roads, no interstates required. We made a stop in the lakeside town of Hinsdale right near where Simon and our friend Sean, also from Christchurch, would be running camp. Taking a look at a local waterfall, it was the perfect opportunity to ignore some "No Swimming" signs and do some mad jumps off rocks into the fresh water. On to Athol to Brady's birthday party, though Children' parties are not so much our thing, Simon and I parked ourselves up on the back porch with some beers and it was happy days. A cool afternoon with the rain patting away on the forest, it was a relaxing old time.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The Kiwis at Two Roads</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">We were lucky that Oktoberfest actually falls in September, because we didn't miss the annual Two Roads Ok2berfest. It was quite the mad weekend, but we figured we might as well work and get paid, and have a few beers while we were at it too. A busy Saturday of three or so thousand attendees meant a non-stop service of beer for us out from the Hop Shed in the Hop Yard. A truly unbelievable volume of beer must have been consumed in total that day. With Sunday being a bit quieter, we were up in the main bar, having more of a chance to enjoy a beer ourselves. Now Amy had made herself a bit of a permanent fixture in the Two Roads Crew, working at the bar, in the Airstream in the beer garden and giving amazing brewery tours. That brewery truly was our world for the year. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">After all our guests had left, we were looking forward to a couple of quiet days, but of course the text came from Sean looking to terrorize our casual plans. We are however always happy to return the favor for the many couch stays we have be privileged to over then years. Other than the regular visits to the brewery and the beach, we headed an hour or so north to Sleeping Giant State Park for a bit of a wander. A steep and boulder-y park, it was a fun clamber up through the forest to a hilltop with a fair view to wooded suburbs, motorways and power lines, hey that's a quality view for CT. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Amy and her dad had scored some VIP tickets to the America Gold Cup International Show Jumping, a fancy equestrienne event through connections at the jewelers her dad works for. Including breakfast, lunch, custom made cocktails, front row seats and the sort of treatment one could get used to. Oh and the horse riding was divine, I'm sure. Continuing with the plush, we ate very well for a few weeks having received a gift voucher for a local farm stand for our wedding. We bought all sorts of great looking and tasting locally raised veggies and meats from the Shelton farmers stand. I always say the uglier, the tastier. We had tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, yellow watermelon and the sorts that were all manor of funky shapes and colours and they were delicious. A gourmet dinner out to the local Karma Sushi in Stratford, another gift, left us full and satisfied after sampling a through spectrum of sushi and dumplings. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Amy at the horse show</span></td></tr>
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<span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #666666;">On our last week in Connecticut, we made a trip up the Hudson to Bear Mountain State Park with Ted for a day hike. I think he got more than he bargained for with the walk being a steep clamber, especially when we crossed the road at the top and he exclaimed that we could have driven! It was worth the effort though, as a view always looks better when you have earned it. We could see pretty far into the horizon, with a faint outline of the skyscrapers of NYC in the far distance. And of course after the return trek, a well deserved beer and burger was had at the near Peakskills Brewpub.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Ted (Dad) climbing up the trail</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">Of course now all that was left to do was pack up our apartment and say goodbye to all our new found friends and colleagues. I had a fun night out in New Haven with my shift from work, having dinner then beers out all around town on them, good fellas. That led to on my request arcade games at Barcade, which led to me missing the last train home by seconds. No worries, a short hike through the rough part of town and I crashed on Steve's couch. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Sunset over the Housatonic River in Stratford</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Now for a small apartment we sure packed it full of things, along with good memories. Memories are easily transportable, however big old couches and the sort are not and a flustered last few hours before handing over the keys was had trying to get rid of some of our hand-me-down big old items of furniture. This required Steve and I to drive all around in rush hour with couches strapped to the roof and chairs poking out sunroofs, but we eventually managed to give it all away. So there it was, one last beer at the brewery, some hugs and a bunch of high fives to all we had met and known over the last year in Connecticut and we were out of there. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Ted, Amy and Thomas at Bear Mountain</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-72303021672611601002016-09-21T20:41:00.000-07:002016-11-21T18:42:12.007-08:00After the wedding lazy CT days <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWSYBbPiwY4ZzXjh9T-cBOkaypQIozKkabSLvXyZfMedOarR4dJc3_8bjVlzMP1Li9048PCGQsGKmAAsT2NLaOLamZP54bxEPJ5M-CxFI0in7a4yEySoN2JqlnDU-2_18C0kblp8vwzw/s1600/DSCN0039.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJWSYBbPiwY4ZzXjh9T-cBOkaypQIozKkabSLvXyZfMedOarR4dJc3_8bjVlzMP1Li9048PCGQsGKmAAsT2NLaOLamZP54bxEPJ5M-CxFI0in7a4yEySoN2JqlnDU-2_18C0kblp8vwzw/s640/DSCN0039.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">At a beautiful Connecticut beach, where no swimming, wading or touching the water is allowed.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">It was good to know the fun wasn't over even after we had to leave the beach. Mum and Dad were off to Washington DC and John and Kel headed to ours for a few days. It was a bit of a manic exodus from the island, but after a relaxing morning at a New Jersey State Park with the Clark family they made it to JFK and Kel and I managed to get the RX7 restarted after a short breakdown on the most congested interstate-95, right in the heart of the busiest city in the USA. After that, we tried to keep it as chilled as possible, but with any drive in the North East, traffic is always the obstacle.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsUEsxgJ8D265jglGcz-CRsGGqQxoxW_nfqPte0KzFtGc4xsZxqZhFkNBMAWwP38mdMc9HlVj5qmD6-stLds4hnzzgrvVc2aDEOzwdeclkGp3MDYl2SkjuRmKmrhBDwxuLbqOchCC-3s/s1600/DSCN0024.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIsUEsxgJ8D265jglGcz-CRsGGqQxoxW_nfqPte0KzFtGc4xsZxqZhFkNBMAWwP38mdMc9HlVj5qmD6-stLds4hnzzgrvVc2aDEOzwdeclkGp3MDYl2SkjuRmKmrhBDwxuLbqOchCC-3s/s400/DSCN0024.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">John with his successful catch.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRmppmMDK2gWABuWKf4K_-nKXDGWf2VhieJndOviwP0t37TqA-8bY8kDKSbfOMTyzjs2GfSbW24BlBd0HNI5NNz3z-hnm6bSYC3tBeVGmToyCQ3rQvbLz6TBrdRYOzhIQdD9lfDPHGjg/s1600/DSCN0030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCIu3GfgSuT22vXoJWrB0sD-rjiskuCgMOcVL-6FiP8l-RKMslG5m4k0mJ-swdJvzXYHE5Orj_hWK7kMYxu_CEkEGeqO1EhgkP-os4PkOkc12hp54TZkhUa6i04VZivZFTWslDEiQXJ8/s1600/DSCN0033.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRCIu3GfgSuT22vXoJWrB0sD-rjiskuCgMOcVL-6FiP8l-RKMslG5m4k0mJ-swdJvzXYHE5Orj_hWK7kMYxu_CEkEGeqO1EhgkP-os4PkOkc12hp54TZkhUa6i04VZivZFTWslDEiQXJ8/s320/DSCN0033.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="240" /></a><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDRmppmMDK2gWABuWKf4K_-nKXDGWf2VhieJndOviwP0t37TqA-8bY8kDKSbfOMTyzjs2GfSbW24BlBd0HNI5NNz3z-hnm6bSYC3tBeVGmToyCQ3rQvbLz6TBrdRYOzhIQdD9lfDPHGjg/s320/DSCN0030.JPG" width="240" /><span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Back in Connecticut, we had a good drive through the country side up the Housatonic River across open roads and dense forest finding ourselves at a legit dingy old road side diner for a malt shake. The big destination however was Captain Scott's Lobster Dock in New London. A seafood fueled lunch that was worth the trip around the work for John. Lobster rolls, shrimp and clams in all their New England goodness. With full stomachs, we took the scenic ride home via some coastal towns and antique shops. But the day wasn't over, meeting Mum and Dad off their train in New Haven, we went to Barcade. You heard me, a Bar-Arcade. Craft beer and Pac-man, Tetras, Pong and every other racing or joystick operated game imaginable. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">A cool little adventure John, Kel and I had was a cycling tour of NYC. Walking from Grand Centralto the High Line with a pizza break, then along the High Line finishing at our bike rental shop. John started us off in style with a dismount over the handle bars, while finding out the break levers are on the opposite side here I guess. It was a truly mad day. We circled down the West Side to Battery Park, Wall Street and South Street Seaport. And hey, I knew of a decent pizza place for a bite too. Up the East side and over the Brooklyn Bridge and back across the Manhattan Bridge. Continuing up the East Side with a good stint riding the streets through Midtown eventually crossing for a lap of Central Park right up into Harlem. Managing not to melt and dehydrate, we made our way all the way back down the West Side. With most of the riding on separated cycle lanes, it was fun, safe and provided a complete city tour easily and from a rider's perspective. A quiet couple of beers were well deserved in a small local park before a last couple slices of pizza and the train ride home.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Now probably the highlight of everyone's trip to the US was a visit to the Pass Bro Shop. A place of unbelievable American-ness. It had everything a red blooded American could ever want: pistols, bows and rifles, to camo print handbags, lazy-boyz and bedding sets. Not forgetting the waterfall fish pond and countless taxidermic animals hung from the walls and celling. Thinking we couldn't get any more American, we then went the the local Bridgeport Bluefish baseball game. Everyone was so positively Americanized at this point there weren't even any complaints at the $8 beers at the game. Considering Thomas the Beer Barron from Two Roads had plentifully supplied the beer for the previous three weeks, they weren't doing bad. Although I had to leave every to head off to another 10pm work shift, John got a foul ball and everyone had a blast. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Amy playing tour guide for the day.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The next day, everyone but me headed by train into NYC, where they parted in Grand Central with John and Kel to the airport, and a final day for Mum and Dad in NYC with the luxury of a personalized private tour, care of Amy. I was fast asleep that day as the working life grind had resumed for me, at least my last couple of night shifts. Amy took them back to the New York Public Library to see the original Winnie the Pooh dolls that live there, then up into Central Park to see the Dakota, Strawberry Fields John Lennon Memorial, up the Belvedere Castle with a nice view over the park and on to the Boat House for lunch. Unfortunately, this is when it started to rain. They were hoping it would pass, but it turned into a full on downpour. With nothing to do but stand under an awning, Amy opted to venture out, as she was the only one with a raincoat, to try and find ponchos for the rest. No luck, she returned as the rain started to stop, and they decided to make a break for it and see the special spot where we got engaged. They then bounded into the subway station and made it out right at Madison Square Garden, and finally on to the Empire State Building, which my parents chose to go up to the observation deck. Eventually they made it on to the to the High Line and at the end of the line stopped at a Biergarten for German beer. As they later walked around to find some food, I was very humoured to hear later of my dad getting to the point where he just stopped dead and said "No, I'm not walking any further," and then demanding to go home. Classic Dad.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijIbiAwfCUyJE1qr1aONBiHpCEGkvUhE2m_6pwgfrQM7LYoCE1YUtWHWeR2nFfvQao6zswW1RZdzhxksZxTKYS5CqEi8afoE7cKGxDad7BAMCEvaNqADxz7mnuspLxNSv2kpC64wK6dQ/s1600/DSCN2938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhijIbiAwfCUyJE1qr1aONBiHpCEGkvUhE2m_6pwgfrQM7LYoCE1YUtWHWeR2nFfvQao6zswW1RZdzhxksZxTKYS5CqEi8afoE7cKGxDad7BAMCEvaNqADxz7mnuspLxNSv2kpC64wK6dQ/s320/DSCN2938.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SaMAxHBWX4lJ7J0Yxi0_4K1EIoUNXmvLZIvsFjJnrZdUYeafPVgaVuoojx8hq9vpeUW2TLyCARVDSe0BMOxckv6XhHG4zeogVyRTW0IqQm-Is7uA8aOEPNcxeTD7ok7yksn8SE5myA0/s1600/DSCN2945.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5SaMAxHBWX4lJ7J0Yxi0_4K1EIoUNXmvLZIvsFjJnrZdUYeafPVgaVuoojx8hq9vpeUW2TLyCARVDSe0BMOxckv6XhHG4zeogVyRTW0IqQm-Is7uA8aOEPNcxeTD7ok7yksn8SE5myA0/s320/DSCN2945.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We spent our last day together in New Haven. We took my parents to East Rock State Park, where we drove to the top for a view of the city. We then drove off to a state park to view a lighthouse, and have a bit of a play on the playground. We stopped for a seafood lunch and then had a casual night of board games at home. We headed back down to Stamford on my parent's last day to have lunch with Amy's parents, and then drove them to the airport, again reciprocating all the times they have done the same, always with a few wet eyes as we say goodbye. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOijadvBdzbvrIpKaiIqlOb7hzrrcENLzk7k6qewdfHAXwASwHvrQbJTXG_EcoeYZz2gnzel9h-mQy83rJAX73yRK0N73gtdQNyn4ULOOhSbgOjctB8uCtqTvJGWNP24Ms65LsIYcE4E/s1600/14141804_10153890534126732_8790778500147870507_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbOijadvBdzbvrIpKaiIqlOb7hzrrcENLzk7k6qewdfHAXwASwHvrQbJTXG_EcoeYZz2gnzel9h-mQy83rJAX73yRK0N73gtdQNyn4ULOOhSbgOjctB8uCtqTvJGWNP24Ms65LsIYcE4E/s640/14141804_10153890534126732_8790778500147870507_n.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The Devo Clan</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-71970382349502856102016-09-20T16:37:00.000-07:002016-11-20T16:38:35.839-08:00"Honeymoon" week in Long Beach Island <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cd7YmZbI3XjOi4N8UUZyGmdiOdDbxE0kvC7LHdQuE36Fefwa78WCDYG_m7RlFPz27xzplINGJMqlZOr9iJlHOiMfr8XcZGuVFItt7L2DZI6wBdKj5MWFMGyBoTZrPR_IvnPOT1-Luh4/s1600/304.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2cd7YmZbI3XjOi4N8UUZyGmdiOdDbxE0kvC7LHdQuE36Fefwa78WCDYG_m7RlFPz27xzplINGJMqlZOr9iJlHOiMfr8XcZGuVFItt7L2DZI6wBdKj5MWFMGyBoTZrPR_IvnPOT1-Luh4/s640/304.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Quizzing us on how well we know each other. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">What would anyone's perfect picture of their honeymoon be? To spend it with the whole family, including new in-laws and throw in some friends? Well, thats exactly what we did and it was one of the greatest weeks ever! We took the traditional Sierpina family beach vacation and gave it a New Zealand Devo direction. We planned the whole week out so as to have the silly fun of the bachelor/bachelorette parties on the first night followed with a recovery day including a rehearsal and dinner, then the wedding on an untraditional Monday. This left the rest of the week to be a plan-less, stress free time to enjoy the company of all those that had made it out to celebrate with us. The invitation was out, come for the wedding and why not stay for the whole week?</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">So the annual drive down to LBI was stressing me about a bit, due to it being an absolute cluster. Seeing as every man and his dog makes the drive from every direction on Saturday morning converging onto the causeway onto the island. Trying to partially avoid this, we took a few car loads down friday. It was still a stressful day and a bit of a cluster for myself. As I drove the RX7 down, along with Simon taking a load containing my parents and Gina and Sean. Once we got to Barnegat, I proceeded to empty the Honda and drive all the way back to Newark Airport to collect another car load of fresh arrivals: John and Kel from New Zealand via Texas, Marc from London and Phil from Colorado. It was a lot of traffic for one day, but man it was nice to be in a car with cruise control and air conditioning after the real 80's driving experience the RX7 offers.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQicqZZfLFziAHYIdGWJtQ5b-TkkZzSCciLrr1wvg82XnPgf-A4RGaUqCjtF5NktnxOsZc_VoyaduFgww4ZfOti8COQkDZdQkRcPaVL484YEEixD46dahI7lWItPemnvUKdxBJ6l7PVI0/s1600/DSCN6138.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQicqZZfLFziAHYIdGWJtQ5b-TkkZzSCciLrr1wvg82XnPgf-A4RGaUqCjtF5NktnxOsZc_VoyaduFgww4ZfOti8COQkDZdQkRcPaVL484YEEixD46dahI7lWItPemnvUKdxBJ6l7PVI0/s400/DSCN6138.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The most PG photo of the evening</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The next day was a breeze though, all we had to do was sit in traffic on the causeway for a bit and there we were. Running round to collect keys and right on 2pm we were in our houses. We filled the fridge to get the beers cooling, had a quick swim and it was time for the boys to celebrate my 'last night of freedom' in a typical fashion. A few beers, a BBQ, some classic yarns, a few more beers and a bit of music, and watching the All Blacks. Pretty low key stuff really. The ladies had far more sophisticated plans however, and when I say sophisticated I really mean the opposite. Going to the gambling capitol of the East to a hall of gaggling bridal parties, ogling over sweaty questionable males. Culminating in a cup full of vomit on the bus ride home for Amy, I left her to spoon with the toilet bowl for the night.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLts_crae27CjWJn_y4NzJod5h7_dIeXA5bWmCvWp08onnwgQAqSozFi9jLtSdTVfhORCGfTHVC41p_bBTfBTciXvecblJjo86uZ5NsTJI0VTAh300vGKCIvn-qXnq3Lt0Ter-K63nx8/s1600/242.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqLts_crae27CjWJn_y4NzJod5h7_dIeXA5bWmCvWp08onnwgQAqSozFi9jLtSdTVfhORCGfTHVC41p_bBTfBTciXvecblJjo86uZ5NsTJI0VTAh300vGKCIvn-qXnq3Lt0Ter-K63nx8/s400/242.JPG" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeY9QUJHJpKt9rb_5p0eMvFI2vdVWcGNnXFAZNARsim48DjXkGEiuvQq67raH2lNjHM63G2YoxxAzsHA2zx9GjesiEhPwTToHPSiKmLj8C4yahbjPvc4uVNQSbHKD4uyfchXiT8FE4vk/s1600/299.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeY9QUJHJpKt9rb_5p0eMvFI2vdVWcGNnXFAZNARsim48DjXkGEiuvQq67raH2lNjHM63G2YoxxAzsHA2zx9GjesiEhPwTToHPSiKmLj8C4yahbjPvc4uVNQSbHKD4uyfchXiT8FE4vk/s400/299.JPG" width="400" /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;">The night before the wedding, Steve and Margaret hosted a slightly weather affected rehearsal dinner. A few practice walks down the aisle by all involved and we were free to enjoy the evening, Kiwi BBQ styles. In typical NZ fashion it rained, classic. John manned the grill outside, as all our guests comfortably squeezed into the upstairs Deverson's holiday apartment. It was a great night for our friends and family to meet for the first time or catch up on old times. Mum's potato salad was a crowd favorite, John stealing the glory, because he made it! Otherwise, the Kiwi Dip, Watties Tomato Sauce and Lollie Cake were on point. We even were subjected to a "newlywed" how well do we know each other game, and although we didn't get many answers technically correct, we agreed we knew each other pretty well anyways.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQxWryfcOvVsapHthg2eHdJv9Yh1tm2QKhuIjCEL6v9PHTxASnQBITJFAEZLxJdWM1ZA7eLsCm-0r_5jlPe8eA-EsWlb-MlnGg-30l63GGtcCtw32Zq95RIUfIYFBgtPi977AhJ-wfL0/s1600/267.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnQxWryfcOvVsapHthg2eHdJv9Yh1tm2QKhuIjCEL6v9PHTxASnQBITJFAEZLxJdWM1ZA7eLsCm-0r_5jlPe8eA-EsWlb-MlnGg-30l63GGtcCtw32Zq95RIUfIYFBgtPi977AhJ-wfL0/s320/267.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6bJRVtVMp1nphWgNfcyUCpfr2Tgl7B3d165R5g55tcMwZj7AdT8F93rK02ndglodxDckltuKZTX-WvQAt7tozeU1KGJQhDlyTEXduFYZPWmhZgnPis_ZSXyndzGTKjJmxnJ8xXRcTgMI/s1600/272.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6bJRVtVMp1nphWgNfcyUCpfr2Tgl7B3d165R5g55tcMwZj7AdT8F93rK02ndglodxDckltuKZTX-WvQAt7tozeU1KGJQhDlyTEXduFYZPWmhZgnPis_ZSXyndzGTKjJmxnJ8xXRcTgMI/s320/272.JPG" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The wedding followed the next day, best day ever of course!</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY79nO7SNV0uRRgwfDqqfPYzWJEwg7c7fZ67Lp9GhT0OUNvqGH_ijKeeAEk1uC3y0pHJCW4wuB7stAyMjaJrJA7O8Fm6EDs2trbz_GuvwocPpgkAKNFwt9GYnen2R0-iYxxaNVnCoeLYg/s1600/IMG1628.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY79nO7SNV0uRRgwfDqqfPYzWJEwg7c7fZ67Lp9GhT0OUNvqGH_ijKeeAEk1uC3y0pHJCW4wuB7stAyMjaJrJA7O8Fm6EDs2trbz_GuvwocPpgkAKNFwt9GYnen2R0-iYxxaNVnCoeLYg/s320/IMG1628.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTiyUCX7pq2dPSkz4nChWMMynCfOGDwH3hPYQJTTL0xdVHOgcO5xLsB4jWGDn8l8_M71ayzxQTOD1LMBTc3Y_iW4TfO54TFEJYs5c-NzZhtVZ_TuWzl46SuAGW1_ETgdDuulIW_8DykoA/s1600/IMG1633.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTiyUCX7pq2dPSkz4nChWMMynCfOGDwH3hPYQJTTL0xdVHOgcO5xLsB4jWGDn8l8_M71ayzxQTOD1LMBTc3Y_iW4TfO54TFEJYs5c-NzZhtVZ_TuWzl46SuAGW1_ETgdDuulIW_8DykoA/s320/IMG1633.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S3uO_uIZvp3VKEmynsOd73FzdCsL-Nds5TUUL5DSLOkM24Odh4Pw165oxKzpWs3IoY9xykpizjvuXRHW7QA_MQz20H2_zLu7t32QcgPYvVCX1c89yRhbT4lGs5K5n-LB1yuD9b3cMgE/s1600/IMG1646.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0S3uO_uIZvp3VKEmynsOd73FzdCsL-Nds5TUUL5DSLOkM24Odh4Pw165oxKzpWs3IoY9xykpizjvuXRHW7QA_MQz20H2_zLu7t32QcgPYvVCX1c89yRhbT4lGs5K5n-LB1yuD9b3cMgE/s400/IMG1646.JPG" width="400" /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;">The following days all melted together. Happy memories of beach days, adventures around the island, dinners and drinks. Earlier starts for the households with young children, and funnily enough, nearer to lunchtime awakenings for those in the friend's house. The general day would go: mornings at the beach swimming, body surfing, beach games, entertaining the kids till we were throughly melted, then lunch and activities over the island. We took the shuttle up and down the island to mini golf, the arcade, the island brewery, Barnagate Lighthouse, and Bay Village.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbTidUfEaWMsuxpn7aIH2l5-5whQrqzlj4KILkzF89pbKv73gcIHXF9pbssJwIyWwKGuRxQLkb_WBF1wyRi-Ao4YWfdIFCeatMoETWIPcLlFIVBiBaJZ68z5PiUBkFeXsnXBDK3UtiJc/s1600/IMG1653.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEbTidUfEaWMsuxpn7aIH2l5-5whQrqzlj4KILkzF89pbKv73gcIHXF9pbssJwIyWwKGuRxQLkb_WBF1wyRi-Ao4YWfdIFCeatMoETWIPcLlFIVBiBaJZ68z5PiUBkFeXsnXBDK3UtiJc/s320/IMG1653.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0CYG1Ve96xreqw2hZHarrOIA-jonwWu1auREXNVWO3kw92x-i1A0jockblMB4gJY1j6MZ6yjsVUqzokIPe1_yxXO67lOsfwnnI4HvsusnLhIe_6TaanzrmjEOr7MGnMox5s6SHWELoM/s1600/IMG1666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv0CYG1Ve96xreqw2hZHarrOIA-jonwWu1auREXNVWO3kw92x-i1A0jockblMB4gJY1j6MZ6yjsVUqzokIPe1_yxXO67lOsfwnnI4HvsusnLhIe_6TaanzrmjEOr7MGnMox5s6SHWELoM/s320/IMG1666.JPG" width="240" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">With Charlotte's birthday falling on the Thursday, the Deverson children and their spouses jumped on some jet skis for a an hour and blasted around the bay. Which was an absolute blast, in quite choppy conditions. All Amy could scream was for me to slow down and not turn so fast, but as soon as she got in control of the machine, it seemed like she was quite enjoying the speed, bumps and turns. This then made me ignore her pleas resulting in us catapulting off the jet ski in quite the dramatic fashion. The evening followed with a lobster and seafood feast, cake, and some home videos.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Ready to Jetski! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">A more bizarre night was going back to our wedding venue, the LBIF, to see a presentation on Wolves and getting to meet a few real live specimens. Not the usual beach activity, they were however impressive and didn't mind a scratch behind the ear.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sL3ZFVuOF9Vkglt0lvU4lvM52N-DLP_TI4m9A-VHRyZZDyHiKf-w2JLcsktSf3inncui13oks2QEgvrk2yNbdvApolfOCmOgnFOAuJKJsmkN-aym7-GXFF1uOHiezupEdRXPwtJ8lFg/s1600/IMG_4797.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="285" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8sL3ZFVuOF9Vkglt0lvU4lvM52N-DLP_TI4m9A-VHRyZZDyHiKf-w2JLcsktSf3inncui13oks2QEgvrk2yNbdvApolfOCmOgnFOAuJKJsmkN-aym7-GXFF1uOHiezupEdRXPwtJ8lFg/s400/IMG_4797.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">With a wolf! </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Of course the greatest addition to the week was all the extra people. More people, more fun, more stories and more great memories. We are truly so thankful to everyone who was part of the week. We had friends and family come from all over the world, and it wouldn't have been the same without everyone there with us.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQT_nQV93t2X6yeBk5RaEelL9cUAIam_ZmUF5f9tE7JJDcG33evHApYWyMTzoTm4LZ3_0XZ_TbdV7XhWAHyGAQpS_26TgeST7CrcDuTSv_IAsnEbNAW0UyBMCdV_STWQs8ByvBo8im1TI/s640/IMG1686.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="480" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The honeymooners </span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-10363755048901516942016-09-14T17:20:00.000-07:002016-11-18T17:39:10.163-08:00Mr & Mrs Deverson <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYvsl9HiYom2RY2EgG-3Nw_1H0KgGJK9Gdi5clE8YPgrFZrOSXtXeZpi8yrxbfFoKoLqfqw5deltxy7zg2Yk4jEeWEdK1O9EHNXRvqJtAH573lSxsqOHFwh5xDPloTaTTyH_GZzP16y0/s1600/Deverson-1811.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYvsl9HiYom2RY2EgG-3Nw_1H0KgGJK9Gdi5clE8YPgrFZrOSXtXeZpi8yrxbfFoKoLqfqw5deltxy7zg2Yk4jEeWEdK1O9EHNXRvqJtAH573lSxsqOHFwh5xDPloTaTTyH_GZzP16y0/s640/Deverson-1811.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">All 49 wedding attendees</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">With all the planning done, the day was upon us. Not saying there weren't a few stressful moments with an additional last minute beach ceremony location change. We went from the beach with restoration works happening, to the gazebo at Barnegat Lighthouse State Park, to another beach in Loveladies Township, which we chose just two days before the wedding. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSDAvd1rtwOIhVwYrw7ohXVV99cfWWge2gHA9ozBIFtWBFfAGHldH57keS4RYU-IQcD1qJfWMLmtffFXFf1DrDZVL2LbtFETsWRMCdM8CrPeEsaYEVHTwmDQrfmTOTQVndikrnqrLFY4/s1600/Deverson-1004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjSDAvd1rtwOIhVwYrw7ohXVV99cfWWge2gHA9ozBIFtWBFfAGHldH57keS4RYU-IQcD1qJfWMLmtffFXFf1DrDZVL2LbtFETsWRMCdM8CrPeEsaYEVHTwmDQrfmTOTQVndikrnqrLFY4/s400/Deverson-1004.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">But the morning of the wedding, I had a to-do list from Amy with only a few small check ups and deliveries that needed to be made, and I even had a moment to dash to the beach for a quick dip before me and the best man made our way down to the beach ceremony. With perfect timing just buttoning up our shirts and a helpful lady helping with our boutonnieres, just as the bridal party arrived. </span><span style="color: #666666;">Short on seats, our friend and celebrant for the day, Phil got forgotten about for a good few minutes baking away squashed in the boot (trunk) of the Subaru. He did later emerge slightly cranky and a tad sweaty. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1x58J3aY-g6rogLqLBOK-TOjmPYyB78oO0D5ES1GPbCFxqzIgQ0XuixAT3W59FV4ZNVQswge0buDlmAMG74ILybbwTCWh-WQFTuYhHIJu0NxiOV4MQjB9G0fFz7bK7ypAMT9_d9rJEKM/s1600/Deverson-1533.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1x58J3aY-g6rogLqLBOK-TOjmPYyB78oO0D5ES1GPbCFxqzIgQ0XuixAT3W59FV4ZNVQswge0buDlmAMG74ILybbwTCWh-WQFTuYhHIJu0NxiOV4MQjB9G0fFz7bK7ypAMT9_d9rJEKM/s400/Deverson-1533.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizofwJBMmZldCRLdI2yvi466N21tNox0DIfzrkMhId6uFnjGJExYa44Fyd015Oc1yxKFPnwqycI__RL_m3QIR2toUmybU_i7ZdxLlLX7wOWbVC2R3NZZ1jAisPXUXp-DFiq7sRXWgKhoY/s1600/14054133_10103507760112501_5087860812532862943_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizofwJBMmZldCRLdI2yvi466N21tNox0DIfzrkMhId6uFnjGJExYa44Fyd015Oc1yxKFPnwqycI__RL_m3QIR2toUmybU_i7ZdxLlLX7wOWbVC2R3NZZ1jAisPXUXp-DFiq7sRXWgKhoY/s400/14054133_10103507760112501_5087860812532862943_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></span></div>
<span style="color: #666666;"><br /></span><span style="color: #666666;">We had organized a few kiwi blokes to be in charge of setting up the beach with chairs and a few decorations, and they also did a brilliant job of handing out bubbles and programs.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdoqPqCUU_sawWdgAgBQQ3GWsgsVT8e1NFqRwsXeYA354TeyrHSHJ5RJQlOyTYvUXtzXTGrCUWyWqCu4Iszge1fyhaRXTYqlUbebX2ya2q6CW6-AoCako035BeQLmTYH6PxrcYNsEAiE4/s1600/Deverson-1539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdoqPqCUU_sawWdgAgBQQ3GWsgsVT8e1NFqRwsXeYA354TeyrHSHJ5RJQlOyTYvUXtzXTGrCUWyWqCu4Iszge1fyhaRXTYqlUbebX2ya2q6CW6-AoCako035BeQLmTYH6PxrcYNsEAiE4/s640/Deverson-1539.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">As a bride and her entourage do, Amy spent the morning with her ladies getting all pampered with beauticians and hairdressers and the sorts. Dressed in a shiny silk gown with the obligatory new initials AJD. Going against the tradition, they did emerge on time but of course looking splendid. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcWh8DP_JUXLK9tyW1JhF0WYBa9H6ZL0ZER9HCOq9ghWjgDCLD9cAr-FQjJIOeZ3DoP1xr3l8k-lBuMexSPgtGwY_sME95GAfODxmfB-iNkJ56-qzRwBwwjQ59yq7jgAWy3ZvP3a6NK8/s1600/IMG1451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcWh8DP_JUXLK9tyW1JhF0WYBa9H6ZL0ZER9HCOq9ghWjgDCLD9cAr-FQjJIOeZ3DoP1xr3l8k-lBuMexSPgtGwY_sME95GAfODxmfB-iNkJ56-qzRwBwwjQ59yq7jgAWy3ZvP3a6NK8/s320/IMG1451.JPG" width="240" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2E6SqEIaDSDCkkIFFNSmOq-6yFXFX1c9inqQ4zYOetMXZ1oPmdgPPOfbEPTVv9DnIaxrWHlA6gIl3I2rPNbd8z8XTFb17JA4RWIPp59ONM4pYxqdZYju87U7fxzIsF3en5UJuincICc/s1600/IMG1498.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr2E6SqEIaDSDCkkIFFNSmOq-6yFXFX1c9inqQ4zYOetMXZ1oPmdgPPOfbEPTVv9DnIaxrWHlA6gIl3I2rPNbd8z8XTFb17JA4RWIPp59ONM4pYxqdZYju87U7fxzIsF3en5UJuincICc/s320/IMG1498.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The only small mishap that I heard of was with Grandma Louise ironing Amy's Dad's dress shirt and some rust residue came off from the iron. Nothing a fast turn around from a local dry cleaners couldn't sort out though.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuDxN3W-Hn3HMF_V_DfBZK3VqL_680Lqc6ReRuLHkdAL4J8lLoJHfl48Az3x0jn0Xxr-WqMIiOI7Vctt-VbefGtole1qh5NoBfdz5uNtFZhEFNNwdSm7sHabdrC9aokXY2WJhQVm_i5fk/s1600/Deverson-1213.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuDxN3W-Hn3HMF_V_DfBZK3VqL_680Lqc6ReRuLHkdAL4J8lLoJHfl48Az3x0jn0Xxr-WqMIiOI7Vctt-VbefGtole1qh5NoBfdz5uNtFZhEFNNwdSm7sHabdrC9aokXY2WJhQVm_i5fk/s640/Deverson-1213.jpg" width="640" /></span></a><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">A few pre-wedding photos with the famous local photographer Ann Cohen, chasing seagulls, jumping in waves and that sort of shenanigans and then Amy and the Bridesmaids snuck off across the dunes and through someone's private property in order to hide from the guests and get back to the top of the dune to make her walk.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKg6C-OUnWBv9-R2QR4-bR-a5jjk5KtHOcmoYEfh4ujsIPt8HHkdPc3ss18uXQzVleB1ZdxYK_4WpjUr2Kmka_MIIj1vGWW30ZwYc0ln1XjC9Il8uPt6TnQMgTzALiw7WFivM-aaGDJ8/s1600/Deverson-1099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifKg6C-OUnWBv9-R2QR4-bR-a5jjk5KtHOcmoYEfh4ujsIPt8HHkdPc3ss18uXQzVleB1ZdxYK_4WpjUr2Kmka_MIIj1vGWW30ZwYc0ln1XjC9Il8uPt6TnQMgTzALiw7WFivM-aaGDJ8/s400/Deverson-1099.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNl-qdk8J9l2s9fM4DLXedz1Vjfk_8BlseagRFeXbEy55vhaY_uJopKrAps5Ll_saJ7gs304Nk5s2J5Ug9SAWPXfqRSln-RdBVzm6F3BgvYaFSTr_wz7AZoRJSNA8b43qopvgs7FHKqo/s1600/Deverson-1396.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpNl-qdk8J9l2s9fM4DLXedz1Vjfk_8BlseagRFeXbEy55vhaY_uJopKrAps5Ll_saJ7gs304Nk5s2J5Ug9SAWPXfqRSln-RdBVzm6F3BgvYaFSTr_wz7AZoRJSNA8b43qopvgs7FHKqo/s400/Deverson-1396.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The guests were seated, well minus the late cousins. Elliott, Brady and Juliet gracefully and playfully set the stage for Amy's entrance along with her father.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkxqlrOWT9AzoTTES54JlAzn9pgmj_S8NhfC9WHY6RIp6gG_sGSdnGDoDKnYlpVD8p8mM0lir8AXZ0Ua_XwghrLfGyGeqDZXLIIxpcQBiK6X-Ex2bWhK81OtUCkRKbfv0XXnA9fvE9ag/s1600/Deverson-1613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmkxqlrOWT9AzoTTES54JlAzn9pgmj_S8NhfC9WHY6RIp6gG_sGSdnGDoDKnYlpVD8p8mM0lir8AXZ0Ua_XwghrLfGyGeqDZXLIIxpcQBiK6X-Ex2bWhK81OtUCkRKbfv0XXnA9fvE9ag/s400/Deverson-1613.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MZIipJcS60yKHeNhyphenhyphenH4I7GNJ6fHvVs7fMfvutQLYcF6MHqaF_vKL69v_Gq2h1u7ANcMNjoon6FiPzZ2Dzuohr7A4eol10Z8Gi4jUAmYz6AbmoGhBaoNMk3bIYBk-21FftkYvZPNFm0M/s1600/Deverson-1641.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0MZIipJcS60yKHeNhyphenhyphenH4I7GNJ6fHvVs7fMfvutQLYcF6MHqaF_vKL69v_Gq2h1u7ANcMNjoon6FiPzZ2Dzuohr7A4eol10Z8Gi4jUAmYz6AbmoGhBaoNMk3bIYBk-21FftkYvZPNFm0M/s400/Deverson-1641.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We worked hard to make this wedding fully about us, leaving out our family member's opinions, and having it completely represent who we are as a couple. It started when we asked Amy's cousin Jodi's partner AJ to play the guitar during our ceremony, and he had full creative reign on that. Having a great friend preside over the ceremony was the perfect touch, with his words being genuine, meaningful and so relevant to us. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We also had Charlotte read the poem 'Love' by Roy Croft, which we had picked out, which was emotional for the two of us to listen to, but also meant so much to include Char in the ceremony. Everything could not have been more perfect, a beautiful day, with the ocean behind us and surrounded by our closest friends and family.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMffGJbnC7h413tnTeL7zJzXolOHrpaGqEt1V4_oUTbHXu_h8ov6RhZnOZcVpqAO2EgqDVz8WjjrS-LLLOb6fWOx7OkcCaHYsUEGDBL8QWGDE7lB9H0x5dRIBQCuNfnF1NEFrs0NDUCw/s1600/Deverson-1708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivMffGJbnC7h413tnTeL7zJzXolOHrpaGqEt1V4_oUTbHXu_h8ov6RhZnOZcVpqAO2EgqDVz8WjjrS-LLLOb6fWOx7OkcCaHYsUEGDBL8QWGDE7lB9H0x5dRIBQCuNfnF1NEFrs0NDUCw/s400/Deverson-1708.jpg" width="266" /></span></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ne8ZvdYRFEoh7rqPdS8UgAq9-GL6JYorgNPjCD6x_v5LMCsXsZu0ZLu36gwhdViS6sqn-CwoG0W7u6Nf9ikwNcL_2QqaalTEEdWsCxMW1f4-ihrgiRJDOSXeKPAytwS9SCiojQ5LYbo/s1600/IMG1514.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ne8ZvdYRFEoh7rqPdS8UgAq9-GL6JYorgNPjCD6x_v5LMCsXsZu0ZLu36gwhdViS6sqn-CwoG0W7u6Nf9ikwNcL_2QqaalTEEdWsCxMW1f4-ihrgiRJDOSXeKPAytwS9SCiojQ5LYbo/s400/IMG1514.JPG" width="300" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Now a few more photos with the family and we were off to the reception, driving the RX7 in style as our newlywed car. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Graced with reggae and NZ-dub, guests sipped the signature cocktail: Blueberry Thyme Mimosas and sank craft beers. Our caterers Kate and Ally's passed hors d'oeuvres which we had selected months earlier and a mild wind off the bay kept the temperature ideal but caused a bit of havoc on some centerpieces. </span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2DdVYQqc5qN0QDHFALGZVGxKO5lwRP4vSqSUw8eWKgIPxTmtFFw6-wT2ivPRMAjLSeohsW5NWmDSl2ho5yEN2ZsCFbRgRtc5cDeHYpgLt93RoQ5lPIHS1nCJP8r2tOTb1HqA8io37QuM/s640/14034924_10206965979409228_1178210947426272473_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="640" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The friends we've met in New Zealand</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Again, the venue was right to our dreams. Looking out over the bay and nature preserve, it was elegant but understated and truly represented Amy and myself. All of Amy's hard work was evident, with so many personal touches, from using my surfboard as a seating chart, our sign post showing where everyone had traveled from, centerpieces in pint glasses chosen from our collection, and many map and travel themed accents which she handmade.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak9WM5ViYd7-CihXQvzhOXJ2RCPzGDZ2TXA0BmtE_poo7Kd4IrWgCKPQ2a4BEtCCUT1QL51ArdUFV0tdNRpc23lM238cmQwOVl37M_2YAA9HnMHmH8zKY5HKk23f2kGgmH1zgrpQeBq8/s1600/Deverson-2214.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak9WM5ViYd7-CihXQvzhOXJ2RCPzGDZ2TXA0BmtE_poo7Kd4IrWgCKPQ2a4BEtCCUT1QL51ArdUFV0tdNRpc23lM238cmQwOVl37M_2YAA9HnMHmH8zKY5HKk23f2kGgmH1zgrpQeBq8/s400/Deverson-2214.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgfLKNX6trT-utrFBuvq9FA2m7A-p4yMBsNcCRg3ubUkfZopP4APBBox6hHj8NzBnxdIoEWKT2DA67qfyJ_nTDiuKwDu2ljlSNGhIq_RG-caomHucdSCcZ6ck5M3zwzYesMFsslcEW6o/s1600/Deverson-2255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWgfLKNX6trT-utrFBuvq9FA2m7A-p4yMBsNcCRg3ubUkfZopP4APBBox6hHj8NzBnxdIoEWKT2DA67qfyJ_nTDiuKwDu2ljlSNGhIq_RG-caomHucdSCcZ6ck5M3zwzYesMFsslcEW6o/s400/Deverson-2255.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The evening flowed casually with a premeditated playlist I created timed to the night. Amy and I had our first dance to our favorite song, Shapeshifter - One, with our nephews running laps around us. Later Amy and her father had a dance to Tom Petty - Wild Flowers. We even paid tribute to Amy's Greek heritage with a few Greek dances! </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzOGDCy7xd8Wis3S_lW0HdXDl-JecqVMu9nGW4rPEdg9WKBjbhd37MRZO1qDYfoQ5NPbP2NgNTl_yb0BSuAbjv3G-VmZcy8txLPV3GojWSgps_rPg4PcxB4v2YrcVpYHJoaFlul5lyY_I/s1600/Deverson-2726.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzOGDCy7xd8Wis3S_lW0HdXDl-JecqVMu9nGW4rPEdg9WKBjbhd37MRZO1qDYfoQ5NPbP2NgNTl_yb0BSuAbjv3G-VmZcy8txLPV3GojWSgps_rPg4PcxB4v2YrcVpYHJoaFlul5lyY_I/s640/Deverson-2726.jpg" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The fantastic food kept flowing with a buffet dinner, but a shortage of beer required a bottle shop run by one of the venue staff. Taylor Swift songs were a crowd favorite but not able to compete with Pendulum or the wide eyed viewing by our American guests to the Devo and NZ-Crew throwing some huge moves to Nero - Crush on You. Many of our guests who would had never witnessed such bass heavy and glitch zapping music and dance moves.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">My brother John, my Best Man delivered a perfect Maori greeting and a powerful but humorous speech followed by some truly heart felt words from Amy's Matron of Honor, her sister Nicole. Less serious was my father's words in his usual fashion and Amy's Dad, Ted delivering a more traditional welcome to the family. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Right at sunset we snuck out for a few final photos on the marsh, including acro-yoga, many many smiles, kisses and on my request a very posed shot with the RX7.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ61Hl5K5e0Udl39kFYkwAitIqyZhRMvBRkdNTLUjBassJBvyPe8F5F77Ysx9GBaOoeFcN1lQVrL1e-nPgPb5X7Q2Lm27PqHOxrw5n3K4FyVtsPFXEYOmNWX6c56qq16leThRiSylo3IA/s1600/Deverson-3420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="color: #666666;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ61Hl5K5e0Udl39kFYkwAitIqyZhRMvBRkdNTLUjBassJBvyPe8F5F77Ysx9GBaOoeFcN1lQVrL1e-nPgPb5X7Q2Lm27PqHOxrw5n3K4FyVtsPFXEYOmNWX6c56qq16leThRiSylo3IA/s400/Deverson-3420.jpg" width="400" /></span></a><span style="color: #666666;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">Of course the day flew by so fast, but thats just the way it is when you're having a blast. It was the day of our dreams and it was made only possible by all our family and friends who made the journey. Whether from far or near, by helicopter, plane, bus, train or car. It means the world to us, all those who were with us for the day. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Capping off the night with a beer on the beach, it was a perfect cool evening with the sand, sea and stars.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Mr & Mrs Deverson</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-30000266227820224072016-09-10T19:34:00.000-07:002016-11-16T21:13:28.863-08:00New England with the Kiwi Family <div style="text-align: justify;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Relaxing in NYC</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Having been the recipients of many airport pickups worldwide, this was my opportunity to return some of the favors we have received over the years from family, friends and others. I hope I payed back a good portion with my 5 hours of commuting back and forth to New York's JFK airport twice in one evening and making double laps to LBI a week later. After my Saturday evening driving, I had both my parents and the entire Clark family in residence at the Sierpina family household. I might add we arrived only just as the household renovations and decorations had just been finally completed hours earlier.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">So a big old NYC family welcome trip on dad's birthday was Sundays activities. A perfect 34 degrees C was a nice welcome to Northern Hemisphere Summer. We planned it Devo-slylz and had a non stressful affair. We saw the main sights of Grand Central Terminal, walked to Bryant Park and the New York Library, and Times Square. We took the subway to the 9/11 Memorial, then walked through Wall Street to South Street Seaport. Unreasonably priced ice creams we had and we found some legit NYC slice pizza for lunch. The Clark children then proceeded to flaunt with the bylaws of NYC and paraded themselves naked through some fountains. A little bit more walking to Battery Park for a view of the State of Liberty by which time we could see a tantrum coming, so we found a nice bar and got dad a beer to quiet him down.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8dTykkUYh52RfNf7VWI_zQqZqR2AYImAKdIFu8Tv1IycUru_KbX7eQcvqcE8pGRryNNOP0bBdYrBIwJoyQhn_IpXxX5qu2WMEiUtb5pJdcPWYUclEADxx39-TP1_5QAqV1rPhoyXGcM/s1600/asugsplashNewport.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT8dTykkUYh52RfNf7VWI_zQqZqR2AYImAKdIFu8Tv1IycUru_KbX7eQcvqcE8pGRryNNOP0bBdYrBIwJoyQhn_IpXxX5qu2WMEiUtb5pJdcPWYUclEADxx39-TP1_5QAqV1rPhoyXGcM/s640/asugsplashNewport.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Newport, RI</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZfRAyL8x0mNHTd2RYNV90-DqqvabTx_EMly7GOmQ72r1pCjeQ4FuRQgT6FcfyV6KHI0YhHYBZca8G7Sv0mcpXFkWbck_mHLPOzaP6IvuX_Z7NwVhvwoa8e-YjrkTpyTSxTCoDWfKk5k/s1600/Newport-RI-waterfront.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9ZfRAyL8x0mNHTd2RYNV90-DqqvabTx_EMly7GOmQ72r1pCjeQ4FuRQgT6FcfyV6KHI0YhHYBZca8G7Sv0mcpXFkWbck_mHLPOzaP6IvuX_Z7NwVhvwoa8e-YjrkTpyTSxTCoDWfKk5k/s320/Newport-RI-waterfront.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="color: #666666; text-align: justify;">I headed to work at 10pm that night, and the next day slept while the adult Clarks headed into NYC for another round, and Amy entertained mum, dad and the Clark children with a trip to a children's science museum. The next day, the Clarks headed off with a rental car to visit some friends and we were off on our mini road trip with mum and dad. Headed for some New England hotspots, we called into Mystic Seaport Connecticut and started the day with a coffee and viewing from afar the Old Port Town. Continuing north to Newport, Rhode Island we set off on foot to view the historic mansions and walk the coastal path. Amy's enthusiasm got the better of us there. As we ended up walking 4.5 miles on a sweltering day. Father was desperately in need of a beer at the end of all that. So much so, that he resorted to drinking a warm oil can of Fosters that I had brought him as a funny gift, which had been baking in the car all day. Other than experiencing dehydration and exhaustion, we enjoyed the early stroll through the old town, saw all the big mansions and had an adventure along the cliff walk. We made it to Boston none the less.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">A few coffees a day, keeps these two alive. But ice cream it is right here.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">A day on the Freedom Trail it was. Running in reverse from our hotel, the Constitution Inn, it was a quick stop to the USS Constitution Museum, then across the Charlestown Bridge to historic cemeteries, The North Church and Paul Revere's House. Chicken pot pie and Boston go hand in hand for me, so thats what I got at Quincy Market. Coffees for everyone else. Followed by a father-son-off on the free outdoor table tennis. On we went to Faneuil Hall, the Boston Massacre site, more cemeteries and finishing up at the Town Commons by the State House. From that point we knew exactly where we wanted to be, back to the Bell in Hand. Serving beer since 1795, we had a few cold Sam Adams to celebrate the man and his city. Later that night in the urban wasteland of Charlestown, we found a funky little pizza place with a beer list the Urban Hipster would die for.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Boston</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Not done with New England yet, we headed slightly further north to Salem. Historic for its witch trials and old port. It certainly gave off that vibe, with its streets rowed with big gothic style houses where you know some funky shit went down. Sadly its seems, the lies of a few young school girls set off an unfortunate event of finger pointing which ended in a bunch of people being hung and burnt alive. The historic port customs house building was very interesting and far less depressing. Even more exciting was stopping into Notch Brewing Company, who contract brews at Two Roads. Their beer is exceptional and meeting the brewer and seeing their new little brewery was cool, especially with a couple of big cans to take home.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666;">And with my nerves building, naat, it was just one more night before heading down to LBI. It was fun to have a group of family and Kiwi friends later that night back in Stratford and at the brewery for a couple of beers. Mum, dad, Amy and I, met by Simon who had been vacationing on our couch while we were away, and Gina and Sean who just arrived into town. We gave a tour and had a few beers before squeezing the seven of us into our little one bedroom apartment. Luckily, Simon and Sean took the adventure of sleeping on the beach, freeing up a bit more space inside.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Notch Brewery in Salem</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-17035080793861754742016-09-01T16:40:00.000-07:002016-10-14T16:50:12.831-07:00Wedding Planning<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Barnegat Lighthouse</span> </td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Its all done and dusted, but there was plenty going on to make that smooth and seamless wedding that we had. Luckily for us, that meant getting a good bunch of little preparatory holidays in advance. Long Beach Island was our home for multiple weekends. We made day trips, spent full weekends at the Fornaciari house and even one weekend where we went camping too.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">The first preliminary winter trip occurred in January for just a day trip with the future in-laws Diane and Ted. The mission was to lock in the venue mostly, and secondly sort out some rental houses. We had an idea of a few venue locations, but Aunt Margaret Fornaciari had recommended the Long Beach Island Foundation of the Arts and Sciences, so after a look online, and a talk on the phone about prices, we were pretty certain that this was our place. We walked around the venue, we loved the view and the flexibility they offered. That they are a non-profit foundation was a plus too, rather than just money grubbing wedding scammers. We found houses and had time for a quick lunch and a minute walk in the sand on the mild but cool winter day.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">February was the visit where Amy made appointments to meet with a caterer, a bakery, photographer, florist and tent rental company. She had put good effort into sussing these different vendors out throughout the previous month, so she knew basically the ones we wanted to use. We had an incredible dinner tasting 10 different items at our food tasting, and locked everyone in. Making a good weekend of it, I brought the water sport equipment, however it was a tad cold. Thankfully there were no waves, as I probably would have gone in, and likely frozen solid. We were also celebrating our 6 year anniversary that weekend, so we popped open a bottle of champagne that we were gifted at our engagement party back in 2014, and made some fondue.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">In April, Amy and the ladies made a day trip down to LBI for a Wedding Roadshow. Although most things were all booked in by then, it was good for them to walk around and check out all the other vendors on offer, and to talk again with the ones we had booked in, trying the free food and drinks and enter some contests. They looked at the reception site again, and talked over set-up and on the way home learned Amy had won a basket which came with homemade blueberry thyme simple syrup which we used for our mimosas at the wedding. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">During this time, Amy spent almost every weekend wedding dress shopping with her sisters and mom. It seemed like a never ending process, which was becoming more stressful by the day. She looked at almost every shop possible in Connecticut, and even a few in NYC, but was unimpressed with the prices, although her mother was willing to pay. She also became frustrated with how ornate some of these dresses were, and how even after the crazy price tag, you were expected to pay more in alterations. Finally, she tried on a dress in the wedding dress line of the casual/preppy store of J.CREW, and fell in love. She ended up ordering 5 different versions online, and returning them to the store in Connecticut, just to get the perfect fit. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDpR097HfQ3fQJVUZYQ80HZmlJlkJ2ztgxrF80rQkCVSUiDDei9wKsPoZ3CknO56AX7-RBSLXnYyTot3zPmnKCAp4O9oOLhgC7VN1CKGI_aWyWVinfMmYBCWLWYvOD5IBqFnyoBA372U/s1600/IMG_1168.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtDpR097HfQ3fQJVUZYQ80HZmlJlkJ2ztgxrF80rQkCVSUiDDei9wKsPoZ3CknO56AX7-RBSLXnYyTot3zPmnKCAp4O9oOLhgC7VN1CKGI_aWyWVinfMmYBCWLWYvOD5IBqFnyoBA372U/s320/IMG_1168.JPG" width="320" /></a>With a few months following with no trips, it was nice to see warmer weather arriving and a long weekend in June was a good time. We booked this trip in to have our cake tasting, but also because we were invited as VIPs to the Long Beach Island Foundation's summer kick-off cocktail party. We planned to meet with our caterers again to go over tiny details and hand over more money, and to talk to the photographer. On our first morning, I caused us to be late for an appointment, as I was out surfing and getting some good waves. Luckily, Amy managed to reschedule for later in the day. And hey this is why we sorta like this place, they couldn't blame me, its the beach remember! We had our cake tasting that day, choosing from the four pages of options we did eventually narrow it down. We then left a bottle of Two Roads' Unorthodox Russian Imperial Stout for them to make us a dozen cupcakes to take back to work, which we were completely blown away with. That night was a big fundraising event for the LBI Foundation. Lots of wealthy sorts giving big bucks after being schmoozed with liquor and food, good plan! It was good to see the space we were going to use all set up and it looked good. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">We decided to head down the last weekend in July to finalize all the last details. Unfortunately, the Fornaciari house was unavailable, but we found a campground just about 20 minutes away on the mainland. We baked in our little tent, however it was interesting staying off the Island where we could explore the surrounding area a bit more. We were happy to enjoy some local beers from the Pinelands Brewery in Little Egg Harbor Township. Their dirty hazy Pale Ales were not my thing, however they made a dank ass Brown Ale and Oyster Stout. The downside to being off the island was having to get onto it across the causeway. We ended up being 45 minutes late for our first appointment, because everyone arrives to the island on Saturday in the peak season and we were with them. At the foundation we were shocked to see construction machinery all over the beach where we were planning on having our ceremony. We talked to the project manager who said they weren't going to be gone anytime soon. A bit freaked out, but knew we would work something out. After several location changes, we settled last minute for a beach just north of the original location, which worked perfectly. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG0ne47ik2_TjrNQTNPSTGEJuVNAvvoTVpD5_tUpzGSDrfPPk1vmqYEjvdt_n_boFK4Pfn0xi2a0RTHD-1hvwOg9Z_pLEK9M1LJrcEKxHesNXESr5PZ5YTsBO5HCTYyxYy3dX8DL0Tr4/s1600/IMG_1141.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG0ne47ik2_TjrNQTNPSTGEJuVNAvvoTVpD5_tUpzGSDrfPPk1vmqYEjvdt_n_boFK4Pfn0xi2a0RTHD-1hvwOg9Z_pLEK9M1LJrcEKxHesNXESr5PZ5YTsBO5HCTYyxYy3dX8DL0Tr4/s640/IMG_1141.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Sunset from the LBI Foundation </span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-34296769324200162152016-07-23T14:00:00.000-07:002016-10-14T16:49:17.064-07:00The OOB<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK234kMZtxEL7CPrTgpCJDjIOEfkdgjBt7SRNLGzYaFQMpCyIsumL95Jq0aXRkXI4MQfAkq9nf50-P2S5UUS11eAE5ZBFITupRTRfdkhci4NpDyMZpATiMGiJS-XTpkLI2mX0mB8hT6nU/s1600/DSC_0630.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="428" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK234kMZtxEL7CPrTgpCJDjIOEfkdgjBt7SRNLGzYaFQMpCyIsumL95Jq0aXRkXI4MQfAkq9nf50-P2S5UUS11eAE5ZBFITupRTRfdkhci4NpDyMZpATiMGiJS-XTpkLI2mX0mB8hT6nU/s640/DSC_0630.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Old Orchard Beach Pier</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Old
Orchard Beach, Maine, known to New England locals as The OOB was a bit
of a funny place with its strong hick American vibe blended with a
strong influence from French Canada. Being just a few house drive away,
the Canadian vibe is not surprising, although it was. We stayed in a
very pricey campground for two nights, but it was kitted out, with pool,
table tennis and a fair bit of peace and serenity for a pack spot. The
beach was just a 10 minute walk away, along with the amusement rides,
right on the side of t<span style="font-family: inherit;">he </span>beach<span style="font-family: inherit;">,</span> with a rickety pier and its shack style buildings all
over. The water was deadly cold, seriously<span style="font-family: inherit;">, b</span>ut its was truly just beautiful,
with some nice little swells rolling in. Perfect for body surfing, just
had to let your head defrost after every few dunks underwater.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExweeOMo8FG1gdm_EJeu2M5zv_dIyBokp_2n_cJ1iz3w3u69rs9RUE6BqsMnMzWkH_EapTbz96zthpiF61KxtfOmJzysljea_6HjOOghFp64jIfocObl-YL_dmR0gF1-PlOZ8LF-D8OU/s1600/DSC_0602.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgExweeOMo8FG1gdm_EJeu2M5zv_dIyBokp_2n_cJ1iz3w3u69rs9RUE6BqsMnMzWkH_EapTbz96zthpiF61KxtfOmJzysljea_6HjOOghFp64jIfocObl-YL_dmR0gF1-PlOZ8LF-D8OU/s400/DSC_0602.JPG" width="267" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Portsmouth, NH</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We left early Friday morning
after I was done with <span style="font-family: inherit;">n</span>ight shift. Was a bit of a tough day running for 24+ hours with no sleep, but it gave us a super long weekend. We took the
interstates direct to the New Hampshire boarde<span style="font-family: inherit;">r</span>, where we stopped at
the town of Portsmouth
for a picnic lunch and a look around. Followed by following the Post
roads Route 1 North making a few stops along the route<span style="font-family: inherit;"> at</span> <span style="font-family: inherit;">Kittery Fort</span> and
the beach town of <span style="font-family: inherit;">Ogunquit, which we both noticed were incredibly clean and pristine. The water at the beach in Oqunquit was blue as could be, but the amount of people <span style="font-family: inherit;">littering the beach is always a bit <span style="font-family: inherit;">of a downer. </span></span></span>On route to Portland we also stopped in at the
most photographed <span style="font-family: inherit;">l</span>ighthouse in the country, the Portland Head Lighthouse and yeah its pretty
photogenic.</span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0zKcal17QDVTX0unqOOpRyNTe3TFwGchSvu1v1AciFurALsFphdosctjVmIvvZZYRoFbGk5BKB_fXdgNHX5dYkjI4GtPglKri_8npNNfFpsdk1fV0r7qrpzSAXFk8zMxNIcN2a28OKk/s1600/DSC_0647.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG0zKcal17QDVTX0unqOOpRyNTe3TFwGchSvu1v1AciFurALsFphdosctjVmIvvZZYRoFbGk5BKB_fXdgNHX5dYkjI4GtPglKri_8npNNfFpsdk1fV0r7qrpzSAXFk8zMxNIcN2a28OKk/s640/DSC_0647.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Portland Head Lighthouse</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuqEYstCdjy1nFFgzVnukJQjxHzgg6Y0TMlH1MGyFf9yXT3uQY6attd40tjAugjlhWNyCjUHYQZuRcO7gbSvR_8FwO8Y8TUchKWdzGm4WjXmCCAPSrXcBoQtze5ImErTXqpdcnwAXlp0/s1600/DSC_0668.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAuqEYstCdjy1nFFgzVnukJQjxHzgg6Y0TMlH1MGyFf9yXT3uQY6attd40tjAugjlhWNyCjUHYQZuRcO7gbSvR_8FwO8Y8TUchKWdzGm4WjXmCCAPSrXcBoQtze5ImErTXqpdcnwAXlp0/s320/DSC_0668.JPG" width="214" /></a><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">We made The OOB our base for a
bit of exploration. We were particularly excited to head to Portland,
Maine. After the recommendation by one of the brewers we contract brew
for, we embarked on a brewery adventure in the ultra hipster/alternative
city of <span style="font-family: inherit;">t</span>he <span style="font-family: inherit;">n</span>orth. Six brewery's to speak of on our visit, <span style="font-family: inherit;">we s</span>tart<span style="font-family: inherit;">ed</span> at
Foulmouthed Brewpub in South Portland. We met the brewer of the brand
new facility, enjoyed a flight and some extremely flavorsome bites to
eat. Shipyard <span style="font-family: inherit;">B</span>rewing Company next, with their ingenious chalk board
flights,<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span>filled us with good quality beer. Rising Tide Brewing operating
out of large roller doors was a chilled location with a great pale ale
with rye. Its was a shame we didn't get time to visit the craft
distillery next door, because up next was Bunker Brewing Co. Now this place
is what a true craft brewery should look like. As if it was put
together by a bunch of madmen with welding equipment inside a building
that looked like it survive a nuclear holocaust. The beer was great, the
prices were as fair as they come and sitting in the industrial
wasteland setting on the warm July Saturday afternoon a few beers in, it
was just good news.</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgqSH7n8N4VvxYqhDEzMUabEatelnMqdXcoa3wOvk3BnL3aDS9q6RYYpgB2Ou9SOCiB5qesKlRUkSrgEWGOEs7yHCJlz6ZVpgg_fyTnCwVUeqTlddu23iAxtLg9-jheUv8IavqLyKYGv0/s1600/DSC_0691.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyg-CCLN9mGhV0uwzCSfhSOhgfUdx_nFQtHtSjcabQJPjxhKZZk1Xu9SdHIDrAxcRP_x2QUhvWbYoCAng10J8LTPEdRk1lViqJlOUSUoPPEQ2vJmh8A8h2LZ0YYSe_2qQpnjMoaWDwy8/s1600/DSC_0676.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNyg-CCLN9mGhV0uwzCSfhSOhgfUdx_nFQtHtSjcabQJPjxhKZZk1Xu9SdHIDrAxcRP_x2QUhvWbYoCAng10J8LTPEdRk1lViqJlOUSUoPPEQ2vJmh8A8h2LZ0YYSe_2qQpnjMoaWDwy8/s400/DSC_0676.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Bunker Brewing Co.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> A short walk further found us at
the Urban Farm Fermentory, which just sets the bar of hipster
alternative-ness. Fermenting liquid only of the non<span style="font-family: inherit;">-</span>hopped variety<span style="font-family: inherit;"> a</span>nd I
don't just mean few hops, they mean no hops, e.g not beer. Cider, Mead, <span style="font-family: inherit;">C</span>ambucha as well as herbed liquid (beer<span style="font-family: inherit;"> basically</span>) is their thing.<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span>A bold move, <span style="font-family: inherit;">far</span>
away from the big selling profit making pale ales and pilsners, these
guys are going a different route. For what the<span style="font-family: inherit;">ir</span> beverages were, they
were good, but I would have loved a pale ale is all. Last brewery of
our tour was the oddly named Liquid Riot Bottling Company. Alternative
in the general American sense, though for this part of the woods, I
guess it was just coming across by the book. Good beer, bistro pub food
and right in the heart of the tourist trap of down<span style="font-family: inherit;">t</span>own seaport
Portland.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZudj0EBasIBg9BahbmfrKWLX4Um6wfRzZOJWRJlzsZZU8Qa0nhzzECCH_Pmqjr5nJEx5I4dm7FzrjXzFYcBEbXZXGbFstTy5L2VAAqPXeShSFNdB8bnnsOBjaY-M_sLhk0h5jkRcfxQY/s1600/DSC_0726.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="267" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZudj0EBasIBg9BahbmfrKWLX4Um6wfRzZOJWRJlzsZZU8Qa0nhzzECCH_Pmqjr5nJEx5I4dm7FzrjXzFYcBEbXZXGbFstTy5L2VAAqPXeShSFNdB8bnnsOBjaY-M_sLhk0h5jkRcfxQY/s400/DSC_0726.JPG" width="400" /></a><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Ending off the trip we ventured <span style="font-family: inherit;">w</span>est into New Hampshire aiming for Lake Winnipesaukee. With no
expectations, we were blown away with how beautiful this place was. The
large clear evergreen lake was set within the tree covered rolling
hills. You could nearly even justify some as mountains. We stopped at
the lakeside Wolfsboro. A quaint New England holiday spot, perfect for a
huge ice cream with your toes in the water, motor boats cruising,
flower baskets hanging from shop eves and a relaxed air. We
circumnavigated the northern lakeside, driving right waterside some of
the time and other times climbing over hills past cabins and mansions alike.
At Meridith there was more boat parking than car parking. A huge
lakeside bar and restaurant was the attraction. A nice lakeside path
w<span style="font-family: inherit;">hich</span> wound into a boardwalk jetty<span style="font-family: inherit;">, </span>I was surprised to see no 'No
Swimming' signs so <span style="font-family: inherit;">I</span> took the opportunity to take a last dip, 'Thomas
Style'. The water was absolute perfection. New Hampshire an<span style="font-family: inherit;">d Maine</span>
have a reputation for being green, and they certainly seem to make an
effort to protect their waterways, at least in this instance. To ca<span style="font-family: inherit;">p </span>of
the weekend, I headed straight back into work at 10pm after a 30 min
nap. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Thomas and Amy at Lake Winnipesaukee </span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-32244148631025190622016-07-08T12:35:00.000-07:002016-10-14T16:47:24.628-07:00Rhode Island<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqMbii2H_jx8XE9U77xfn8-TgutVjwAZS1t_BcnFMKZY140_Z6g6dIKNfCYO0pJW2FLWDT8KepzP9hOpEy5-opBhqMvlgDMB7qv_lLGPY3Fm9OE8RIPWdJJrQ05PfTG3nxajjHPdGFG0/s1600/IMG_1205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHqMbii2H_jx8XE9U77xfn8-TgutVjwAZS1t_BcnFMKZY140_Z6g6dIKNfCYO0pJW2FLWDT8KepzP9hOpEy5-opBhqMvlgDMB7qv_lLGPY3Fm9OE8RIPWdJJrQ05PfTG3nxajjHPdGFG0/s400/IMG_1205.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">Narragansett Beach </span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Making the most of a four day long weekend, we joined my workmate Steve and his misses Barbara who had booked a holiday house for the weekend in Narragansett, Rhode Island. There were about eight people there, with some more coming and going over the weekend. We had a bed one night and then a couple nights out in the tent in the back yard as well. On the mild nights, it was just perfect, "glamping" like we always do. Sleeping in the outdoors but with all the comforts of a house otherwise, theres not much better than that. Being the 4th of July, it was an all American affair. We grilled, lit off mad fireworks, baked our asses off on the beach along with heaps of glutinous eating and drinking.</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJOTEPfF4xAoO1LVohCYtw9ol3EQYPpvaS8D78c0pnG-rEGNgtJuSr2lLCdEpTUtcQil8wsWcZx62okpcsT53tl7CsidTBquBUd9VrNxAeTTHBYYVE13z8N7TkWXlaqxMTw-09ahQ6FM/s1600/IMG_1208.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJOTEPfF4xAoO1LVohCYtw9ol3EQYPpvaS8D78c0pnG-rEGNgtJuSr2lLCdEpTUtcQil8wsWcZx62okpcsT53tl7CsidTBquBUd9VrNxAeTTHBYYVE13z8N7TkWXlaqxMTw-09ahQ6FM/s320/IMG_1208.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">RIP ripped shorts</span></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESl40yb-C9mSRmQrY9PAynMsM3aRCn7SEPPN7VAKkf1zpK0oW-QdUFvhcywcb4m4_z-_fcX6_TwKJ02V4hv7QZPfTnznbvimaA0HEKa9EbfCBL7HWZaFLeJdoVZfpoTdqGiapUrBwOGw/s1600/IMG_1226.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjESl40yb-C9mSRmQrY9PAynMsM3aRCn7SEPPN7VAKkf1zpK0oW-QdUFvhcywcb4m4_z-_fcX6_TwKJ02V4hv7QZPfTnznbvimaA0HEKa9EbfCBL7HWZaFLeJdoVZfpoTdqGiapUrBwOGw/s320/IMG_1226.JPG" width="239" /></a><span style="color: #666666;">Playing games with the beach officials, we ventured early to the beach to ensure we didn't have to pay a entrance fee. A few got into trouble when they were deemed to have jumped over the wall after the free admittance time of 8:30am. They seemed to turn a blind eye to me and Amy though, not sure they wanted to swim out and get us as we headed straight for the open ocean on the stand up paddle board and surfboard. Other than having to pay, it is a really nice golden sand beach and we have enjoyed visiting over the years. Unfortunately, the waves were micro at best, and the crowds were unbelievable. But we always enjoy the crystal clear, cool water though.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;">Fireworks galore, it seemed like it was nearly a contest. As you would let a few off, more would erupt off around you from each and every direction. Which neighbor had the biggest fireworks, I'm not sure. But none would have been legal anywhere other than America I'd assume. Seeking out a real display we went for a bike around the wealthy headlands to catch a glimpse of Jamestown R.I. letting some big explosions off in the distance. Our last morning we even ventured out at some ungodly hour to watch the sunrise back at that same spot, its was pretty beautiful.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">With Barbara and Steve</span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6268315191412544988.post-46981200230379047402016-07-01T10:50:00.000-07:002016-08-07T07:28:58.444-07:00Work, Life and Summer<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;">With the come of summer meant the biggest relief for Amy, that her daily commute to Stamford working at her school was over. The short term position she had taken turned into a full time position throughout the school year. A great addition to her building list of experience working in schools, she was sad to have to finish up after making friends and relationships with teachers and students. But, the 5 minute bike ride around the corner to Knapp's Landing, a local seafood restaurant over looking the inlet, is more her style of a commute. Working events and festivals at the brewery as well she is a busy girl, but that's nothing compared to sitting in your car 10+ hours a week before your work hours even begin.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">At the Road Jam festival at Two Roads</span></span></span></span></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Thomas showing Ted the Hopnick, for dry hopping</span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">For myself, as I rotate through my two monthly shift rotations each co<span style="font-family: inherit;">m</span>es with its own positives and negatives. Morning shifts were busy action packed 6am starts where the day just flew by. We were short staffed and I have never been in a situation when I have managed to multi-task so much at one time and coordinate so seamlessly with my fellow cellarm<span style="font-family: inherit;">e</span>n. Running the cellar meant 8 hours of controlled mayhem sending and switching over beer to packaging, running the centrifuge, cleaning tanks, assisting the brewers, dry hopping, and basically dealing with anybody's mess ups and problems. By 2:30pm we were deserved of a beer and most days we would head up to the bar or into the beer garden for a fresh pint or two. Second shift and the later start coming at 2pm started off in a similar manor of a shit show as the morning shift however, the evening would slowly progress where all the damage and mayhem of the day was dealt with an<span style="font-family: inherit;">d</span> taken care of. With the over night shift being much quieter and the most productive in terms of knocking beers out, CIPing tanks and processing beers for the following days packaging. </span></span></span></span></span><br /><span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: small;">This rotation
creates a varied sleeping pattern and has meant Amy and I would often
see a lot of each other at times but then go for a good while where it
seemed we were living two separate lives. Once the spring weather
finally kicked into gear, we have tried to make the most of the spare
time we have had. Wedding planing has been Amy's main past time, but
that's another story, literally another whole blog. We have found two
local-ish Frisbee Golf courses that are challenging and entertaining. I have played regular golf right across the road from our house. We have taken trips to New
Haven to visit my workmates and were left in awe at the super hipster
bar scene in the Yale University town. There are also two large rock
outcrop parks overlooking the city, good for a drive and a walk. I enjoy
stretching the RX7s legs on the stretch of road up the Housatonic River,
that also leads to lakes and state parks.</span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: small;">A few other events including a joint Australian themed birthday party for Stevo, Ryo and Tomo on a very unsummery day at the beach. Zinc on the nose still, because we all know the sun still burns through the clouds. We have had a couple good play sessions with the wee man Brady. I try give him a bite of the adventurous life, he has free range with uncle Thomas. </span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlkl0tO4Jt2JNBN8DMelkU4JVEHTLTcEHK3uDyFtgMfq1cS3LLYsJBKnNqzEI4efkG9mVAmuoEfF0Uj-xFJF1tyr24u5YVAY4-h-jxvjTZJ6jYsHUvo2ro4oAvQRGKArNEPDzsFaXmOI/s1600/IMG_0880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlkl0tO4Jt2JNBN8DMelkU4JVEHTLTcEHK3uDyFtgMfq1cS3LLYsJBKnNqzEI4efkG9mVAmuoEfF0Uj-xFJF1tyr24u5YVAY4-h-jxvjTZJ6jYsHUvo2ro4oAvQRGKArNEPDzsFaXmOI/s320/IMG_0880.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Aussie mate</span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;">We have had two special trips into NYC. The 5 Borough Bike Tour, again on a disappointing spring day, however the 40 mile ride through the five Boroughs of NYC was still incredible. Brooklyn, Bronx, Queens and Staten from the Battery to the top of Manhatten. All on closed roads, it gave a perspective unattainable in any other way than cycling. Riding on the motorways and over bridges at our leisure, with 32 thousand others, it was pretty epic. We are also lucky to be among the few to see the hottest show on Broadway, "Hamilton." I felt a bit bad for those that are so desperate to see this show as I was just going along with the flow. It was amazing though and we very much appreciated the quality of performance and writing of Lin Manuel Miranda's masterpiece. Good work Diane for having the connections, beats waiting a year for tickets and paying over a grand each. I guess we are lucky to be right on the door step of the Big Apple.</span></span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtFGQC2fplsokKeyT-BwNszHC5KLNLpWEHLlgHE62SQzlRVcCTqMfZUsXmBXN6O1nc0JG1m4VIRlsFwzmd0xTRcdMQJiEHj266Y2dk9_FF8OIx5hOJJa31xZm920UqPuMl33ubt-yNyY/s1600/IMG_0859.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibtFGQC2fplsokKeyT-BwNszHC5KLNLpWEHLlgHE62SQzlRVcCTqMfZUsXmBXN6O1nc0JG1m4VIRlsFwzmd0xTRcdMQJiEHj266Y2dk9_FF8OIx5hOJJa31xZm920UqPuMl33ubt-yNyY/s320/IMG_0859.JPG" width="320" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;">The end, with the Verrazano Bridge behind</span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br />And thank the lord baby Jesus for ESPNs on-demand coverage of the rugby, keeping me connected with home and a good way to disconnect from this part of the world where every person thinks they are the most important and whatever they have going on is priority, and don't get me started on how they drive. Stop signs, traffic lights and the speed limit, I'm sure they have a super legit reason for their complete and utter ignorance of the fact. This just had to be said.</span></span></span></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="color: #666666;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Atop West Rock looking out to New Haven</span></span></span></td></tr>
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Thomas+Amyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12441425644983918825noreply@blogger.com1