Almost the Colorado Renaissance Festival Larkspur Colorado, 2001 (I mentioned the thing with the film, right?)

Now, there can be little argument that CRF is one of the finest Faires that you can reach from Omaha in a days drive.  We love to visit Colorado in general, and this just makes for a fine excuse.  In 2001, we took a weeks vacation, then met up wit M'Lord Jeff (Sir Falkerion) and his *ahem* guest.  The morning of Faire, Jeff decided we just HAD to go to Pikes Peak.  Kathy and I had been there a day before and couldn't get to the top due to bad weather conditions at the summit, but we had found this really neat little stream and glen at the midpoint rest stop... so while we waited for Jeff's car brakes to cool, we posed for a couple shots.

I should mention, though, something about Jeff.  He tends to run his mouth a lot.  Most of the time it doesn't bother me, but I really didn't want to come to Pikes Peak on this day... I was anxious to get to the Faire, and as far as I was concerned, this was little more than a five hour delay.  All the same, I was trying to keep my cool, go along with the game, etc, etc, when Jeff suddenly said something about his "being bigger than mine."  To this day I'm not sure if he was talking about our boots, swords, egos or carefully hidden flasks, but whatever he meant, it just kinda hit me the wrong way.  I told him he was full of it, and he told me I was a jerk, and... well.. tempers flared.

You don't really think about it until you're in that particular moment... but when tempers flare and there's a couple of ego-inflated guys carrying 2+ feet of razor sharp, double tempered steel, there's bound to be bloodshed or at least a lot of crying.  Next thing you know we're locked in combat... and I'll tell you right now that neither Jeff nor I are any kind of slouch with a blade.  I took up the classic "Not the face! Not the face!" defensive posture, while Jeff whipped up some mean Agrippa at me.  Luckily, I was able to keep my balance on the wet, slippery rocks, parring his every attack, hoping to circle around to his flank.

Which, of course, being the cunning little weasel I am, was soon accomplished.  It wasn't so much a matter of tactical strategy as it was the hope to get a few mountains in the background.  Something about mountains just strikes me as incredibly romantic... I mean, what was the last fantasy novel you read that didn't have some mountains in it somewhere?  Okay, if you're into Pirate stories, you maybe don't encounter quite as many mountains, but I'll just bet there's a sea-cliff or some such thing.  I don't know what that's all about, but somehow I knew that if I got the mountains in the background, my chances of defeating Jeff and preventing any kind of disfiguring scarring to my face was a much more feasible outcome.  As you see here, I lured Jeff into an ill-advised overhead slash, which any combat choreographer can tell you is a sure sign someones about to get it in the gut.

The Saga Continues!  Page Two ----}