We really got in touch with our inner cowgirl this weekend.
On Saturday night, after approximately 8 hours of selling sodas and red vines at the concession stand (and loading and unloading the car four times), we headed up to Buffalo Chip Saloon in Cave Creek for our group fundraiser.
Despite the fact that Cave Creek is only 15 miles north of Kelly's home (and not much farther from mine), we had never been there. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was not prepared for the prevalence of cowboy hats, horses tied to posts outside of businesses, and that... smell... of the Old West.
There are houses tucked into the sides of mountains that my mom, who desperately wants to live in the shadow of a mountain, would drool over. It seems like all the buildings are made out of wood. And there's a place called the Silver Spur Saloon that I will be checking out one day.
It was so kitschy. I love kitsch.
At Buffalo Chip, peanut shells littered the floor on the inside, and employees built bonfires near picnic tables out back. (See the photo below, which I snagged off the saloon's website.)
On Saturday night, after approximately 8 hours of selling sodas and red vines at the concession stand (and loading and unloading the car four times), we headed up to Buffalo Chip Saloon in Cave Creek for our group fundraiser.
Despite the fact that Cave Creek is only 15 miles north of Kelly's home (and not much farther from mine), we had never been there. I don't know what I was expecting, but I was not prepared for the prevalence of cowboy hats, horses tied to posts outside of businesses, and that... smell... of the Old West.
There are houses tucked into the sides of mountains that my mom, who desperately wants to live in the shadow of a mountain, would drool over. It seems like all the buildings are made out of wood. And there's a place called the Silver Spur Saloon that I will be checking out one day.
It was so kitschy. I love kitsch.
At Buffalo Chip, peanut shells littered the floor on the inside, and employees built bonfires near picnic tables out back. (See the photo below, which I snagged off the saloon's website.)
It was a fun, relaxed kind of place, where cold beers are poured into mismatched glasses and jars.
On Sunday, Kelly and I headed out to hike through the Phoenix Mountain Preserve, an 11-mile trek that took us past several mountains we've explored on previous hikes.
We're used to moving over to allow the occasional mountain biker to pass, and there were many on this trail. We sometimes stop and chat with other hikers, whenever we're lost or they're lost. But we're not used to seeing group after group of horseback riders in the distance, or horseshoe prints in the trail's dirt.
We decided that horses would have really sped up our 4-hour hike. Next time, we'll have to bring a couple along.
We're used to moving over to allow the occasional mountain biker to pass, and there were many on this trail. We sometimes stop and chat with other hikers, whenever we're lost or they're lost. But we're not used to seeing group after group of horseback riders in the distance, or horseshoe prints in the trail's dirt.
We decided that horses would have really sped up our 4-hour hike. Next time, we'll have to bring a couple along. Yeehaw!
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