Winter at the lake.

Well, turns out, I was wrong. Grand Lake is about 45 minutes away, and not so much in the mountains as in the foothills. Christian claims I “misrepresented the trip”, I claim that I’m an idiot and generally have no idea what I’m doing. You say to-may-toes, I say to-ma-toes. We reached the “lake house” which sounds way fancier that what it really was. Honestly, I don’t know how to describe it… looked like a woodsy motel from the outside, but felt like a cabin on the inside. Make of that what you will. It had a fireplace which was the only real pre-requisite that I had. Oh, Christian had a good time. See that smile? That equals happy and fun.