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Downhill slope: The Wedge

I settle into a barstool for lunch at Loveland's Wedge Bar and order a can of Red Stripe to go with my overpriced chicken fingers ($5.75 for three chicken fingers, make that chicken pinkies).Plunked down in the middle of Loveland's cafeteria, the bar is busy on this particular weekday. The...
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I settle into a barstool for lunch at Loveland's Wedge Bar and order a can of Red Stripe to go with my overpriced chicken fingers ($5.75 for three chicken fingers, make that chicken pinkies).

Plunked down in the middle of Loveland's cafeteria, the bar is busy on this particular weekday. The snow is falling. While I spend most of my off-slope hours at Loveland behind the Rathskeller's bar below, I like to break things up with an occasional foray to the Wedge for the views and a change of pace.

I wrote a post on the Rathskeller, a few weeks back, and that comes up in conversation with Sarah, my bartender.

"You wrote that!" she says, her eyes wide. "Dave says he didn't say any of that!"

"What?" I respond. "He denies everything?"

Sarah responds in the affirmative. Hmmm. Seemed uncontroversial enough at the time.

After lunch, I ski a few more runs and then pay Dave a visit in the Rathskeller to set the record straight. I tell him I think he's a good bartender -- no offense intended. He tells me the exchange with another patron who says "You gotta go to Wolf Creek for snow" was bogus. I tell him that it indeed happened, but context was everything: The timing of the post was immediately after a particularly deep dump in southwestern Colorado.

Then he tells me he's been on Earth since 1952, not 1957, as I quoted him. I fish a notepad from my pocket and find the relevant scribbles. My 2 looks more like a 7 than a 2, sure, but I've never been known for sterling penmanship. I apologize and tell him I'll fix it.

"No," Dave says. "I want the women who come around here to think I'm younger than I really am."

The Wedge, Loveland Ski Area, 303-569-3203.

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