It's always fun - for me anyway! - to get up before sunrise and check out the turquoise twilight of impending dawn. This week we witness the slender crescent of a waning September Moon as it moves through the constellation of Leo...
With apologies to Charles Dickens, it was the best of days. It was the worst of days.
Let's get the bad news out of the way first. When Telluride Inside… and Out visited New York yesterday, we discovered a poster child for Obama's new New Deal. The BIg Apple remains a work in process, its infrastructure falling apart. At one point in our day, a water main broke down so the 7th Avenue subway lines were not running. On our way to the theatre, people were packed like sardines into the overcrowded "E" train. Shades of Tokyo at rush hour. On our way home, access to the upper ramp on the George Washington bridge was blocked. The detour to the lower ramp felt like that really creepy scene from "Bonfires of the Vanities." All day long, streets were blocked with traffic, the ripple effect of meetings at the U.N. Bottom line: moving around town was as always, at best, challenging, but also as always, worth the slog.
First stop: Willem de Kooning at the Museum of Modern Art.
"The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco," Mark Twain Wow, it's hot. Oops. Now it's not. You know the cliche about weather in the Telluride mountains, any mountains really: Don't like it? Wait a minute...
Let's start with Jeff Osaka. The understated elegance and warmth of this chef/owner pervade "Twelve," our "local." When Telluride Inside… and Out heads to our Denver home, one of our first stops is always "Twelve," a favorite restaurant thats feels like our dining room – only with much better food and service.
Located at 2233 Larimer Street, Twelve is a 34-seat restaurant with a 10-seat massive oak bar bar in a neighborhood Denverites call Curtis Park, just blocks away from Coors Field and the heart of the uber hip LoDo district. But rather than an aggressively downtown demeanor, Twelve feels as comfortable as an old pair of slippers: the warm tones of the room, the laid back furnishing, the soft, very flattering lighting are conducive to leisurely dining, lingering conversations and the long glance looks of a romantic evening. The overall effect is warmly contemporary without a sense of trying too hard. Nothing about Twelve screams "Look at me": not the decor, not the patrons, not the farm-to-table menu. At Twelve, artistry and good taste replace the razzle dazzle of virtuosic flourishes, especially when it comes to the food.
by Dan Hehir, MD
Here in Telluride the arrival of autumn is heralded by many events. We all recognize the cool mornings and changing of the aspens as signs of fall, but here at theTelluride Medical Center the first sign is the arrival of this years’ influenza vaccine. While many of us may respond to these seasonal cues by taking winter clothes out of the closet, making sure the ski gear is in order, or stacking firewood, I would like all of us to add getting a flu shot to that regimen.
Influenza is a viral illness that affects hundreds of thousands of US citizens a year. When calculating the suffering, death, lost work and productivity, the impact is quite severe. While there has been a lot of attention paid to pandemic flu in the media in the past few years it is important to note that the seasonal flu has great impacts to us all. Indeed it is estimated that it is involved with the deaths of about 36,000 US citizens a year. Fortunately, we have yearly flu shots that can protect us from this insidious virus.
Eating in Portland, Oregon can make even minor league foodies panicky. There is so much good food in that city and only so much time. If you took all of New York, simmered off the grade B Thai restaurants and bagel shops, and condensed it into a square footage the size of Brooklyn, you might come close to approaching the density of yummy spots in Portland. Good food, good coffee, and good beer are everywhere.
Here’s the problem. I’m sure you can relate. I still want to fit into my ski pants this winter. So I somehow have to counterbalance calories in with calories out. Great trails for biking and running climb out of the city in every direction, but getting to those can take some time. Especially when you’ve got young kids in tow. So my visits to Portland are always fun but never relaxed. I eat, I run, I catch up with old friends, I sometimes play with my kids, and I sometimes sleep. Then I do the same thing all over again the next day.
Here’s the other problem. I lived in Portland for a few years about a decade ago. So I have my old favorite food spots that I want to visit. But those are “so yesterday” according to our Portland friends. They insist on also dragging us to better places. By the time we return the next year and mention those same places, our friends have already found newer, better spots than the ones they took us to last year. And so on. The city’s like a forest after it rains-- new restaurants are mushrooming up all the time.
[click "Play", Kristin talks hats with Susan]
What's good for the goose… If men can shop in women's stores, go metrosexual, then why shouldn't wear turn the tables too? Kristin Holbrook of Telluride's Two Skirts suggests our hat's in the ring.
In the 1960s, women burned bras and started wearing the pants in the family too. By the 1970s, pants were ho-hum. (So were most fashions.) In the 1980s, women wanting to break the glass ceiling, decided to look more like men: shoulder pads to create the illusion of broad shoulders (all the better to lean on during bad days at the office) came in to fashion, along with button-down shirts, even bow ties. (I bought mine at Paul Stuart.) Power suits for powerful women.
Late Summer in the mountains. After weeks of rain any time of the day, we've got a forecast of brilliant sunny weather for a few days. What to do?
The answer for my friend Todd Hoffman and me: a motorcycle guy trip. First we thought we'd head for the Utah desert, but it looked like it might be a bit warm, so we elected to stay in the high country. Mostly familiar, but always changing and the roads were made for riding bikes.
The destinations were easy, and the ways to get there, endless. We spent three nights on the road in Aspen, Denver and Gunnison. But the rides- not the shortest way to get to any of them. I met Todd at his place 3 miles up a gravel road outside of Ridgway. A gravel road is just a warm-up for my BMW F650GS. Todd was riding his recently rebuilt 1972 Norton Commando, a beautiful bike (I offered to be the baggage car with my new Caribou hard cases), especially if you're riding light.
(ed. note: Dr. Hackett's discussion about altitude sickness is part of an ongoing series, "To Your Health" brought to you by the Telluride Medical Center. See this link for an introduction to the series.)
by Dr. Peter Hackett
The symptoms of altitude sickness are much like those of a hangover: headache predominates, and there may be queasiness, fatigue, irritability, dizziness, and trouble sleeping. These symptoms typically come on within 24 hours of arrival to over 8000 ft from low altitude (less than 3000 ft). They usually resolve in 24 hours without treatment, and sooner with ibuprofen or oxygen or descent to a lower altitude.
Ginkgo successfully prevented mountain sickness in some studies, but not in others. It seems that the exact ingredients vary in different preparations, so effectiveness varies. It is safe and non-prescription, and the dose is 100 mg twice a day starting a few days before travel to altitude.
By J James McTigue
There are sports fans and there are cycling fans.
To watch their coveted team, the former drive to games, wear their team’s colors and tailgate in the parking lot.
To watch their beloved cycling heroes, the latter bike 10 miles up a closed mountain pass, (or camp out the night before), wear costumes, (or at times just their skivies), and also tailgate, but at 12,000 feet.
At least this was the case Wednesday on Cottonwood and Independence Passes during the US Pro Cycling Challenge.
The US Pro Cycling Tour has come to Colorado, bringing the state’s cycling fanatics to the streets—literally. The group is usually relegated to watching professional cycling in the privacy of their own homes, or a nearby bar, (probably owned by a Swiss), that has Versus, the only station stateside that seems to broadcast the sport.
This week, it has all changed. The international cycling community is watching the world’s best cyclists compete throughout the Rocky Mountains via television, while American fans are camped on mountain passes, drinking mimosas and running beside the racers.
The inaugural stage race began Monday in Colorado Springs and will end Sunday in Denver. It consists of a Prologue and six stages, for a total of seven days of competition. The seven days include two individual time trials, and a total of 509 miles with 29,036 vertical feet of climbing.
