Tag Archives: carefree

We tied the Not(stad)!

Eugene and I tied the knot three months ago. We’ve been asked countless times since then, ‘How is married life treating you?’ The fact that I’m finally getting around to posting about our marriage three months after the fact should answer that question for you.

Married life’s been busy. Busy in the best way.

My better half and I have always done things on our own terms, and our wedding was no different. In an effort to keep things simple, fun and all about us, we ran off to Colorado for a long weekend in the Rocky Mountains — and a wedding!

July 22, 2015: Road trip

Lucky for us, Colorado is only about five hours from home. The two-lane highway commute through Nebraska and Wyoming isn’t bad either.


I took in the picturesque prairie views from the passenger seat. (The whole ‘passing semis on a two-lane highway at 85+ mph doesn’t do good things to my heart.)


We’re also blessed with really good — and sneaky — friends. The Casanova’s managed to track down our hotel and send us drink chips for the fancy hotel bar before we even arrived.


Speaking of hotels, ours was awesome. If you ever find yourself in Fort Collins, Colo., book a night or two at the Armstrong Hotel. The 92-year-old inn stands amid all the action and is just plain cool.


And — bonus — the rooms are reminiscent of a quaint college apartment.


The hotel was even home to a resident cat, who we found lounging on the luggage cart every night.


After settling in at the Armstrong, we hit the streets of downtown Fort Collins and landed in an outdoor patio. Nothing says, “Hello, wedding weekend!” like a couple of tall beers. We spent an hour or so people watching while we sipped our brews and ate dinner.


Then we took advantage of the Casanova’s wedding gift and ended our night with drinks at Ace Gillett’s, the hotel bar. Eugene ordered a beer by a name I can’t recall, though I do remember he was pumped to see it on tap. I opted for a cranberry ginger martini. The lounge even boasted local live music. Wednesday night’s ticket was a young piano-vocal duo performing classic tunes.


July 23, 2015: Wedding day

Some of the best black coffee I’ve ever sipped was at Snooze in Fort Collins, Colo. Everybody told us we had to grab breakfast at Snooze. Thank goodness we took their advice. The sunny eatery was the perfect start to our wedding day. And the food — oh my god! The food was fantastic.


We spent the rest of the morning taking it easy. Our little ceremony was held on a blue-sky, 90-degree day at the Annual Flower Trial Gardens on the Colorado State University campus. The gardens were a little more than a mile from our hotel, so we took the opportunity to walk through Old Town Fort Collins and explore another part of the city.

IMG_0427 IMG_0405IMG_0429 IMG_0430 IMG_0433 IMG_0520

Judge Schultz officiated our ceremony. He was a sweet man with sage advice for a healthy marriage. He also had ties in both South Dakota and Wisconsin. Small world coincidence or fate?


We exchanged weddings vows we wrote ourselves, listened to what Judge Schultz had to share, and sealed it all with a kiss.


And with that, we were married!


Then celebrations ensued! Our hotel, which was conveniently located near the city bike path, offered cruiser bikes for guests. We armed ourselves with a map of the local breweries and hit the open path in search of a good time.

IMG_0469 IMG_0473

Cruiser bikes are fun! The path weaved through town and lined the Poudre River, offering ample opportunity to take in all of Fort Collin’s natural beauty.

IMG_0477 IMG_0478

Stop #1 was O’Dell Brewing Company. O’Dell makes some of our favorite beers, and the brewery didn’t disappoint. We each opted for a flight and had a grand ole time trying new brews as husband and wife.

IMG_0479 IMG_0482 IMG_0483

After deciding on our favorite tap, we each grabbed a glass and headed out to the patio before taking a brewery tour.

IMG_0485 IMG_0492

Next up was Fort Collins Brewery. The beers were so-so, but the food. was. bomb. Some couples serve dry chicken and mushy veggies after they exchange vows. Eugene and I ordered a soft pretzel, wrapped in bacon, presumably deep-fried, and dipped it in spicy stone ground mustard. To each their own.


The rest of Fort Collins was clearly at O’Dell, because Eugene and I were the only ones sharing the the dining area with a ’70s cover band. If you’ve never grooved to Cherokee People while sipping mediocre beers, you’re missing out


When we picked up the brewery map from the hotel, the guy at the front desk told us the best coffee stout he’s ever had was the Sad Panda at Horse and Dragon Brewing Company. He warned us that the brewery was a ways away from the others, but we’re avid coffee stout drinkers and couldn’t be deterred.

Unfortunately, both Eugene and I are also terrible with directions — especially after a couple of beers, on bikes, in a new city, without a GPS. We overshot the brewery by a mile or two and ended up using the GPS on my phone to guide us in the right direction.

But hotel guy was right. I would go the distance for Sad Panda any day. The bartender got wind that we were just married and poured us each a second beer on his tab. We likely would have stayed at this brewery all night if it didn’t close at 6 p.m. And if it wasn’t such a trek to get back to the beaten path!


Are you sensing a trend yet? Fort Collins is a mecca for craft beer and we were bound and determined to celebrate our marriage by sampling it all. After biking back from the boonies — and subsequently working off our buzz — we saddled up to a bar boasting more than 70 craft beers on tap.


And finally, we wrapped up the ‘Great Craft Beer Tour of 2015/The Notstad’s Marriage Celebration’ at Equinox Brewing. Although Eugene will likely deny it now, we were totally beered-out by this point. Don’t get me wrong, Equinox makes a pretty stellar stout. I’ll just be sure to drink less beers before diving into my next Fluffhead Milk Stout on nitro.

IMG_0514 IMG_0516

July 24 – 26, 2015: Honeymoon

What’s a Colorado vacation without a trip to the Mountains? No vacation you’ll ever catch me on.

When Eugene and I decided to get married in Colorado, my one requirement was that we spend a couple nights in Estes Park. The Rocky Mountain town is home to some of my favorite memories from past Colorado trips, and I wanted the opportunity to add to that memory bank with Eugene.

So, first things first, we continued the Great Craft Beer Tour of 2015 with a quick stop at an outdoor beer garden in downtown Estes. Eugene’s stout was so thick, he was left with a beer foam ‘stache, which isn’t apparent in the photo below… But my husband is cute, so what the heck, I’ll share it anyway.


My dad first took me to Estes Park in 2006. Since then, our numerous Colorado trips have revolved around fly fishing with Kirk. While the point of this particular trip was not to fly fish, something would have been missing if we didn’t cast a line into the Rocky Mountain waters.

So we booked an afternoon trip with Kirk and headed out onto the Big Thompson River. It was Eugene’s first time casting a fly rod, but he caught on quick, and even had a few bites. Unfortunately, he’s still working on setting his line, nonetheless he managed to catch more fish than me. Eugene was even able to set a Colorado state record for a rainbow trout. (I should also note that Eugene added these last few sentences when I asked him to proofread this post.)

IMG_0534 IMG_0535IMG_0550

Let the record stand that I, Kelsey Ann Notstad, reeled in more fish than Eugene.


I was especially pumped about this nice rainbow…


… who looked even better after I held him up to the camera.


But fish or not, the best part about pulling on a pair of waders and sloshing through a river is the view.

IMG_0556 IMG_0559 IMG_0560

Next stop: Rocky Mountain National Park. We spent the day taking in all of Rocky’s breathtaking (literally — the air is thin up there) views.

IMG_0575IMG_0564 IMG_0569 IMG_0572 DSC_0132 DSC_0138 DSC_0139 DSC_0145 DSC_0148 DSC_0153 DSC_0156  IMG_0580 IMG_0585

And finally, we wrapped up the best wedding getaway ever with dessert, a walk around Lake Estes, and drinks on our hotel’s patio bar.

IMG_0596 IMG_0600 IMG_0604

“Where there is love there is life.”

The love I have for Eugene is indescribable. It makes my stomach flip. It makes my heart beat faster. It makes the corners of my mouth turn up into a smile. And — most importantly — it gives me life.

I wish we could relive these five days every day. They were the most fun, carefree, perfect days I’ve known.

Family and friends, we love you too! We had a blast celebrating our love in Colorado, and we look forward to celebrating again with all of you. Keep an eye on your mailboxes. We’ll see you on the shores of Lake Monona this spring!



My bare toes curl around the jagged rock, gripping tight, and my arms wobble at my side.  I attempt to steady myself while minding the beer that splashes from the white-knuckle-incased can held in my hand.  My head hinges back and uncontrollable, ab-engaging laughter erupts from my gut, completely countering the balancing act my toes and arms are struggling to maintain.

Powerful Pacific waves crash relentlessly against the rocks we stand atop– each saltwater arch provoking a new bout of girly screams as it shatters against the sea stacks.  Ocean water sprays from the surrounding rocks and we gain control of our giggles moments before another swell soaks us.

The lighthearted moment epitomizes what it is to be carefree.

We’ve drank our fair shares of cheap, terrible tasting, local beers.  A hot, squint-inducing, yellow sun hangs high in the sky.  We’re surrounded by the incredible natural beauty that is the north-pacific coast.  Aside from being knocked from the craggy rocks and swept away with the ocean current, we have no worry in the world. In those thrilling moments, life is purely perfect.


All I want to do is go to a townie bar

The afternoon sun hangs heavy in the sky as my roommates and I tromp down the steep steps of our apartment and out the door.  We quickly walk though the alley and chat about nothing before turning the corner and reaching our destination.

One of us pulls the lightweight screen door open with a snap before pushing in the heavier wood door and we file in to the dimly-lit room.

There’s something about arriving at a stale-smelling bar full of men three times your age in the middle of the afternoon that is all at once strange and comforting.

We find a group of four or five open chairs along the bar and take a seat on the tattered pleather as the beyond-middle-aged bartender confirms our usual drink orders and begins pouring.  Before I can remove my coat or cut from conversation, a screwdriver is placed in front of me.

It’s the simplicity of a worry-free weekend that lures us into that corner bar on a Saturday afternoon.  We don’t have weekend jobs, we don’t plan on starting our schoolwork until late Sunday evening, and we just can’t think of anything better to do when UV rays aren’t strong enough to spend the entire day at the beach.  So here we are, wasting our afternoons away.

Although we trudged through the weekday grind and complained about the stress  in our lives, Friday through Sunday afternoon will without fail leave us with nothing better to do than spend too much money on small strong drinks and chat with people who’ve been at the bar since 10 a.m.

Why is it that each proceeding stage in our life is more difficult than the previous?

I would give almost anything to travel through time and and stumble back to that barstool between my friends.  Not to to end up in a downtown college bar, but to be nestled among the townies of Winona, those who play Levon on the jukebox and whose conversations must be earned.  We would have left our apartment a few hours earlier with the intent of grabbing a single drink, which would almost always turn into “Oh my god, I think I’m drunk” after one drink turned into Well Butch bought us these drink tokens, we might as well cash them in or okay just one more, then I’m seriously going back home.

I want to pause my attempts at getting somewhere in life for a single Saturday afternoon and  randomly get drunk at 3 p.m. for no particular reason, surrounded by old adults who are too drunk to remember my name, but will always recognize my face.