Though rigorously prudent and deliberative in most things, even I am not immune to the powerful “gold fever” that grips Colorado each autumn.
In the past, I’ve been content to enjoy the high country’s ephemeral fall fashions in the traditional way, through my car’s bug-dappled windshield. This year, however, my artistic nature and native patriotism suggested another course. I would mine the gilded realms on foot, wandering free among the whispering glades and quenching my thirsty soul with deep, aromatic draughts from the aspens’ sparkling cup.
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