Winter Settling Moon
Kate and I ate an early dinner at Brooks Forest Inn in their pub where the Broncos were on TV and several jerseys were worn: the gray haired bartender with a large blue comb in her hair, the owner, an ex-rodeo star, and a blonde on the arm of a man with a stetson and a black western shirt.
I mentioned this place a few weeks back, founded by Swiss immigrants who found the place like home. It’s been in continuous operation since 1907.
The road there, Black Mountain Drive (our road), becomes Brook Forest Road, but it’s always Colorado 78. A narrow two-lane it winds through the Arapaho National Forest. Its curves, especially going down, are dangerous and force a reasonable rate of speed.
I have a feeling the Brooks Forest Inn will become a regular place for us, a place where we will get to know folks and get to be known.
