Colorado. Runner. Yogi. Fucking hilarious, like, 17% of the time.

Saturday was the Boulder Beer Scavenger Hunt. I had no idea what it was before I bought tickets. The last week of March, when Crockett was in the Bahamas, I started seeing messages from Boulder Beer on Facebook that said things like 'scavenger hunt tickets go on sale at 11 on Thursday! Last year they sold out in 2.5 seconds!' Even though I had no idea what I was buying, I was bound and determined to get some of those tickets... And I did.

The goals of the scavenger hunt were threefold, and the hunt itself took place on Boulder's pedestrian mall.

1) Identify all eight bars on the clues list, and go to those bars. At each bar, play a game - the games included beer pong, Catchphrase, that game where you slide a puck down a long sandy table, and more. Get points for each game and get free pint at each bar.

2) Find a list of ten items - the list included hard to find Boulder Beer items that had been hidden around the mall (like magnets and bumper stickers) and easier things like a feather and a q-tip. Get points for each item.

3) Find a list of ten other items that cannot be picked up, but instead need to be photographed with one team member. Get points for each photo.

Obviously, my team member was Crockett. I'd been asked for a team name when I bought the tickets and in brain freeze the likes of which I'd never before experienced, I settled on Metro-Dade in his honor. We then, of course, had to explain it to every single person who saw our nametags. "No, not Miami-Dade - it used to be called Metro-Dade when Miami Vice was on and when we went to derby prom my boyfriend here accidentally dressed up like Crockett and now I call him that on my... you know what? Never mind. Call us whatever you want."

Emma's drunk scale at the time: 2/10. For the meanings associated with these ratings, please see the chart available here.

Ryan Miller, Paul Gaustad, and my boyfriend

Crockett's joy scale: 10,000/10.

Emma's drunk scale: 4/10. At this point I'd had a pint at the first pub, half a pint at the second, and maybe a third of a pint at the third.

Emma's drunk scale: 7/10.

Emma's drunk scale: 6/10. I was probably a pint up here from where I was when I met the garden gnome.

Emma's drunk scale: 5/10. All of that running around was sort of sobering me up.

You might be asking yourself, self, where is Crockett? The answer is: got me. We kept coming together to compare lists and splitting up again - for all I know he spent most of the afternoon sneaking back into the sports bar to watch more hockey.

And the grand finale of pictures:

Emma's drunk scale: 9/10. I hadn't had much more to drink, but based on this photo, I'm going to say that what I had already had was catching up with me but quick.

Are you wondering why I was riding a bull shirtless? Crockett and I were at this bar together, and we each got to give bull riding a shot. The one of us who ended up with the higher score would be counted for our team. Crockett was going to go first, and he started to pull his shirt off as a joke before he went up. When he started buttoning it back up instead of taking it all the way off, the organizer person said they'd give him extra points if he rode shirtless.

Even though he was on my team and his points were my points, I got all worked up. How come he can ride shirtless? I can't! The bar wouldn't let me! It's not fair! Sexist sexist blahblah I hate you all etc etc. So the organizer checked with the bar owner, and they said go for it.


I held on for a minute and four tenths of a second though, I am not even kidding. As of our turn, that was the longest anyone had been on - almost thirty seconds longer than Crockett.

That was pretty much it. We duly reported to the final bar for the points tally and we didn't even make it into the top three (clearly there was money changing hands). Then I threw up. Then we went to get Crockett some pizza, then I threw up some more. Repeat as needed until about 7 pm yesterday, except minus the pizza.

Final lessons?

  1. People will give you almost anything if you tell them it's for a scavenger hunt. Just ask the nice bartender at Centro that gave us a fork, a spoon, and some superglue when we needed a spork and he didn't have one. (It counted for full points when we turned it in.)
  2. Crockett and I now suspect I had a mild case of alcohol poisoning. Apparently getting old and drinking in the middle of the day make that possible on four or five beers.
  3. The other teams cheated, because the shirtless bull riders were obviously the winners.

Stockholm, Day 12

Stockholm, Day 11