Camping: Koch Style... Whatever happens, happens

One day Bridget declared we were all going on a girls camping trip. So Melissa, Mimi, Maria, Natalie, Sue, Bridget and I jump on our horses and rode off into the sunset to the cabin about a mile away. Camping as I remember it included tents, soggy sleeping bags (it ALWAYS rained), wieners over an open fire, peeing in the woods; you know- roughing it. Once we arrived to the cabin I saw Gilbert, one of the chefs, whipping up some quesadillas and guacamole. There was an "outhouse" with a nice toilet and shower. The cabin was rustically decorated, with quilts on the beds and barn-board refrigerator facade. I'm actually surprised there wasn't wifi, but then i remembered we were "roughing it" for the night.
After a little hike and an amazing dinner by Gilbert served to us by the wait staff, we circled up around the fire. All the staff left us alone up in the elements... for about 15 minutes. One guy showed up to try to connect the TV to the computer so we could watch a scary movie. He left with no success, and someone else showed up to work on it. Mary showed up, bringing us 3 dvd's to choose from if we couldn't get our iTunes movie to play. Eventually a computer geek came, and he determined iTunes had protected the movie from being played on a television. Later, someone's son drove up, he had driven all the way from Paonia (30 mins at 8 pm) because he had an illegally downloaded version on a flash drive we could use. Man, it sure is nice to be all alone out in the wilderness enjoying nature!! As darkness approached, another call was made- "Can you bring us some chips and champagne?" We were really roughing it.
Throughout the evening as we sat outside we could hear the coyotes in the distance. The night before, some of the boys had shot one not far from the property. Every once in awhile we'd hear them all howling, the sound getting closer and closer. Sue (she's so rugged- she climbed Kilimanjaro in a tank top) told us when you didn't hear them, they're moving, so we want to be able to hear them howling so we can know their location. "When you can't hear them, that's when you're in trouble." Melissa, the hypochondriac and scaredy cat was starting to freak out. They were definitely getting closer.
Later, as we were all getting settled into our beds (my bed is of course closes to the door, which of course i checked the locks 3 times- remember the bears?) all of a sudden we hear a bunch of noises outside the door. Melissa started freaking and I stayed right in my bed without any reaction. I grew up with brothers- it takes a lot to scare me. Sure enough it was a couple of the girls trying to mess with those of us inside.
About a half hour passes and the coyotes are getting really close. We start peeking out the windows but can't see anything. Sue opens the door and Mimi pushes her out and locks the door! Melissa starts screaming, "GET INSIDE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? GET INSIDE!" Once Mimi sees Sue laughing she goes outside also and as Melissa continues to scream, we realize it's Mary's husband Tom (our Town "sheriff") just messing with us. He had a howling coyotes recording that he'd been playing for over an hour, getting closer and closer to us. Melissa is relieved but on her way to a small heart attack haha.
We start watching a scary movie "The Cabin in the Woods." College kids were one by own getting killed off by zombies when we hear the noises outside of the door right beside my bed again. I'm fine, look over at the girls, and after doing a quick head count, bounce from my bed to Bridget's where Melissa, Bridget, and Maria are sitting. As I'm hopping over (like a gazelle the girls say) Mimi shines a flashlight at the window in the door and I see a huge bear head!!! I'm hoping the door is still locked as Melissa is burying her head into Bridget's shoulder saying "Whatever happens, happens!" Two seconds later we realize, once again, it's Tom messing with us. We all died laughing at Melissa's "last words". It's good to know she made her peace with dying.

Little Cabin in the Wood

Once in awhile I get a little break and head over to Aspen. Sometimes this means I get to jump in the helicopter and go OVER the Rocky Mountains.

Sometimes this means I jump in the Jeep and drive around them. It's a gorgeous, fun drive.

Once there, I am able to stay at Elk Mountain Lodge, the Rooney/Koch property that is about 20 minutes from Aspen up a mountain. The main house is huge and gorgeous, and much too big for me. There are a few other log cabins on the property, one named NorthStar, that I get to enjoy. It has a fireplace. This is all I care about. It's dreamy. I was told however, to be sure to lock the doors, because the bears have figured out how to open them. Yikes!

The first night I stayed here alone, I was reminded of all the scary movies I've seen that happen in the middle of nowhere, and psychopaths show up to terrorize the occupants of the little cabin in the woods. I figured out my game plan if I heard knocking or any other strange noises- Stay in the bed and don't move. This was less of a plan and more a prediction, since I know myself enough that most likely I would be paralyzed in fear haha. Despite my own imagination, the night passed quickly and I awoke to the gorgeous mountains all around me greeting me hello.

Welcome to the Spaloon

A typical day in a spa anywhere in the world is generally without stress. The environment is meant to be relaxing, even for a working environment. During my days at The Lane Spa in Florida, my massage room was my sanctuary for thoughtful meditation and prayer. This place is not far from that. From where I am sitting, if I look left out my window I see horses, fields of wildflowers, and a snowcapped mountain. To my left, the great Ragged Mountain glistens in the morning light. Straight ahead, kids are playing outside the apothecary, some are headed up to the schoolhouse, and a few workers are hanging a sign that reads "Blacksmithing."
A typical day in "the Town" includes a long hike to Dark Canyon or even to Crested Butte after a big breakfast. There are times we will have guests pop into the "Spaloon" for a service, but things don't usually get busy until after lunch. Here at the Spaloon you can receive a massage, facial, manicure and pedicure, sit in the hot tub, in fared sauna or steam room, lay on the hydrotherapy massage bed, or get a body scrub or wrap followed by a Vichy shower. The Spaloon is one of the prettiest spas I've been in. Bridget wanted a place where her and her friends could come and enjoy the days here out in the Wild West. It's working. Everyone loves it here. It's one of the only buildings that isn't "period" to the 1800's and is comfortable and modern. Bridget amuses "This is not period, its menopause."
We end up working until dinner, usually around 7:30. After we've greased up their hair with massage oils and facial creams, they receive a shampoo and blow-dry and maybe even a few false lashes depending on the night. One night, for Christina's birthday, we all raided the Women's and Gentleman's Shop, put on our fancy outfits, and had a pub crawl. We bounced from the Saloon, to the Cattleman's Club, to Long Branch (another Saloon), and ended up at the train station for cake and champagne. Just another day in 1880.

Mark and Maria

Maria and I at Long Branch

14 days in...

I am fully aware that this blog is long overdue. I had intentions of keeping you all up to date but between not having as much time to myself as I expected and just being overwhelmed by this place I haven't found the right words.
Melissa and I arrived in Grand Junction on Tuesday June 11 to a whopping 95 degrees. I sort of loved it, I craved dry heat after all the muggy rainy days we had in West Palm leading up to our departure. I picked up my SUV from Hertz, and after a couple of errands and Wendy's chicken nuggets, we set out for an 1.5 hour drive to Somerset.
The road was empty and with no cell reception. We remarked to ourselves how this is usually how scary movies start. We had made a plan to stop in the last town before our destination, Paonia, Colorado to pick up milk and a few other groceries to make dinner for the evening. I waited outside with Charlie while Melissa ran inside and one lady that walked by me said, "You must not be from around here, you must be from one of those big fancy cities." Apparently having a fluffy white dog and a fresh blowout made me stand out from the rest of the Paonia residents.
After a cherry soda and making friends with a few other Paonians at the Revolutionary Brewery we headed out for "the Town". Once we finally found the gate entrance (after missing it twice and driving up a mountain in Gunnison National Forest) we stopped at the gate house and signed confidentiality agreements that we would not talk to the press or take pictures. Gulp. There goes my idea of blogging everything.
It's a long beautiful drive up the mountain to the Town. Wild daisies and mountain views, deer and elk frolicking, and 15 mph speed limit. Upon entering the beginning of the town, we see a little chapel at the top of the hill and a little red schoolhouse across the street. There are pink and blue victorian looking homes, log cabins, a bank, several saloons, a hotel, two jails, a train station with a caboose (He hopes to build train tracks around the town), a gun store, a cookhouse/dining hall, a birdcage theater (with a huge projection screen for movie watching), a candy/ice cream parlor, a women's dress shop, a firehouse, all amongst other buildings. There are around 70 buildings on the property. The spa that I work at is gorgeous with teal-stained wood floors and tin ceilings. Across the road is a barn and corral with 7 horses, 4 miniature ponies, 2 sheep and 2 goats, and a chicken coop. Beyond that is a gorgeous snow capped rocky mountain.
Out the back door is Ragged Mountain, that lights up as the sun begins to fall in the evening for what the locals call the "magic glow." It's pretty phenomenal.

More to come...

31 days and counting...

"Another Saturday night and I ain't got nobody
I've got some money 'cause I just got paid
Now, how I wish I had someone to talk to
I'm in an awful way"
-Cat Stevens

Saturday night, 8 pm, sitting on my couch. Alone. And it's really no one's fault but my own.
Why is it I feel more pity for myself alone on a Saturday night than, say, a Wednesday? Saturday day time is met with simple questions about my weekend plans but with ensuing panic as I scramble for sufficient answers that won't leave me feeling judged, or worse, pitied if they heard the real truth: I don't have any Saturday night plans. Why is it so hard to admit that? Is Saturday night the pinnacle of the week that I'm supposed to have been working for and looking forward to? Saturday night has been issued by decree to be date night apparently and any single person without an invitation feels like a loser regardless of any attempts at implying their current situation is intentional by posting pictures of their glass of wine on instagram labeled #alonetime. Nobody wants to be alone on a Saturday night.

Yet my current situation finds me alone, on my couch, at 8pm on a Saturday night. It's not ideal, I'm not gonna pretend. But I won't feel sorry for myself. Am I any less loved because I'm here not "out" there? No. Besides, my best dates happen on week days anyway.

33 days and counting...

Welcome to my side of the blogosphere!

This summer I will be embarking on a journey in what might become the most dramatic season (of my life) yet! (Apologizing already if you haven't watched the Bachelor to catch the reference, but in all honesty, you should be the one apologizing to me.)

On June 11th Charlie (my furbaby) and I will head West, to a town outside of Aspen we ambiguously call "The Town", and begin living in a dreamworld that is brand new, yet designed to look and feel 200 years old. I'm going back in time to live in the Wild West.
Say what??
My friend Melissa and I have been hired to work in what has affectionately been called the "spaloon" that was built for our clients Bill & Bridget inside their western town they built for themselves. Bill has been an avid collector of all things Western, including the only known photograph of Billy the Kid and a gun from Wyatt Earp. He always dreamed of living in a town like we've seen on "Tombstone" and "Lonesome Dove" and so, built this dreamland for himself and his friends and family. They'll be there in "the Town" for 6 weeks, and I'll be there with them the entire time. I have NO IDEA what to expect, except a great adventure.

While I'm there, I am certain I will have time to think and ponder and write (when I am not becoming one with nature of course). This is a journey into new territory not simply because i have never been to Aspen, but because i have not had the time or freedom lately to just "be still", to meditate on things I will have time to read, to blog about my adventures and what i'm learning and discovering not only empirically but spiritually and emotionally. I am looking forward to the quietness of this tiny town set in the Wild Wild West. And I'm hoping you want to listen, and be my lifeline back to the real world (side note- there are no TVs there and the internet is "spotty").


I really wanted to leave you with a quote from a song that's been in my head the whole time I've been writing, Michael W Smith's Go West Young Man, but the lyrics are really so bad that i just can't. ("Why must I wander like a cloud - Following the crowd - Well I don't know" ) As an alternative, I think a line from Fievel Goes West suits the situation a bit better:
"Just remember, Fievel - one man's sunset is another man's dawn. I don't know what's out there beyond those hills. But if you ride yonder... head up, eyes steady, heart open... I think one day you'll find that you're the hero you've been looking for." -Wiley Burp

Thank you Wiley Burp, for my main mission as I enter this journey- Head up, eyes steady, heart open, as I follow the sunset and head West.

-Johanna