This past weekend, Jeff’s cousin and his girlfriend were in town. We decided to head to the mountains (again) and took them to Keystone for the Bluegrass and Beer Festival.
We got a sampling glass and were able to taste tons of local brews, some of which we had not tasted before. A bunch of local restaurants also had tents set up and we were also able to get some really great food…. all while listening to bluegrass. The weather was sunny and temperatures were mild, perfect for an outdoor festival.
We got a hotel room in Dillon, CO and took the free bus to and from the festival. The shuttle was nice, but was on mountain time; meaning that there was no adherence to the posted bus schedule.
After the Bluegrass and Beer Festival in Keystone, we took the bus to downtown Dillon for a bite to eat at a brew pub (I won’t waste any words discussing the horrible food and service we had there). After our sub-par dinner, we stepped outside and heard some 70s funk music blasting from an outdoor amphitheater on Lake Dillon. We headed that way and caught the tail end of the free outdoor concert. Then someone had the brilliant idea to start log rolling down a steep grassy hill.
My coordination after a day of drinking beer was not at its best and once I started rolling, I could not stop! Wheeee!!!!! I just rolled faster and faster and faster until BAM! Suddenly I was stopped at a small retaining wall… and I was really dizzy from all the rolling! Giggling with dizzy gleefulness, I stumbled up the hill and sat with Jeff. I happened to mention my abrupt stop at the base of the hill and that my head hurt. Jeff gives my head a little rub and then realizes his hand is covered in blood. Whoops, apparently I split my head open when the retaining wall stopped my out of control log rolling. And once head wounds start bleeding, you can’t get the bleeding to stop!
I guess this was a sign we should go back to the hotel. But remember how I said the buses are on mountain time? Well we waited and waited all while my head was bleeding. Impaired first aide skills probably are not the wisest and we determined that I didn’t need stitches, but that I did need to get home…and who knew when the bus would arrive. I won’t elaborate on the fuzzy details, but we all made it home in an adventurous fashion.
The next morning my head wound was still bleeding, not to mention we never cleaned it before going to bed, so I went to get it checked out. A good antiseptic cleaning by a rough nurse (she did not think my head wound from log rolling was humorous) and some medical glue fixed the issue (it could have used a stitch, but I opted with glue so that I wouldn’t have to worry about getting the stitch out later).
I’m too old for this behavior; no more day long drinking festivals OR log rolling down hills.