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It’s Hotter Than a Fresh-F***ed Fox in a Forest Fire

(According to My Husband)

It is hot. Not “aw, cute, summer’s here” hot. I mean the kind of high-country heat that makes you question every life choice that led you to a house with no central air at 8,000 feet.

Today, tomorrow, and Monday are all shaping up to be scorchers, and the animals have gone flat. The dogs are puddles. The horses have claimed the only shade on the property like they’re charging it rent.



And my husband, Chris, ever the poet laureate of Cassidy Ranch, took one long look at the forecast, wiped his brow, and delivered his official meteorological assessment:


“It’s hotter than a fresh-fucked fox in a forest fire out there.”


Reader, I married that.


I have no notes. There is no thesaurus on earth that improves on it. The man communicates in a dialect I can only describe as Rocky Mountain Redneck Haiku, and after all these years I’ve stopped fighting it and started writing it down. You’re welcome.

First, a dead-serious word about that “forest fire” part

Because we remember. The Cameron Peak Fire took a piece of these mountains that we are still getting back, and every one of us who lives up here gets a knot in our stomach when the wind kicks up in August. So yes, we’ll laugh — laughing is how mountain people survive things — but we are also dead serious about the one thing that actually matters in a summer like this:
Do not be the reason.
So here’s a quick, loving public service announcement from your friends at Red Feather Lakes, delivered with all the warmth of a woman who will absolutely come find you:

Check Fire Restrictions

Check the fire restrictions before you strike a single match. When the county or the forest says no open flame, they mean it. (Check both the Arapaho & Roosevelt National Forest and Larimer County before you go.)

Drown Campfires

When fires ARE allowed (not this year) and you build one: drown it, stir it, and drown it again until it’s cold enough to hold your bare hand in the ashes. Cold. Out. Dead. Not “mostly out.” Not “it’ll burn down on its own.” OUT.

Red-flag day — gusty, bone dry? Skip the fire entirely. S’mores taste exactly the same over a camp stove or LAVA BOX, I promise.

No Smoking!

Stage II Fire Restrictions mean absolutely no smoking outside! Period

How to actually beat a mountain heatwave (and help your neighbors do it)

Okay. Hat off, wine back on. If you’re melting like the rest of us, here’s the good news: the coolest way to survive a mountain heatwave is to let our local businesses do the sweating for you.

  • Trade your campfire for a cold one. Grab an iced coffee (or something frostier) at one of our local spots: Where to Grab a Cold Brew.
  • Chase water and shade. Our lakes and tree-covered trails were built for exactly this: Trail Maps & Guides — and the shadiest campgrounds are mapped here: Campground Guides & Maps.
  • Shop from the hammock. Every order from our little shop keeps this whole guide free AND keeps our mountain micro-economy breathing: our Shop.
  • And when you’re up here, spend your dollars up here. Keeping our neighbors’ doors open is the entire reason we do any of this: the NW
Iced Coffee Time 2

Now it’s your turn

Got Any Fun Heat Wave Sayings?

So that’s my hubby’s take on the heat. Now I want yours.

Do you have a mountain heatwave saying — something your dad, your grandma, or the crusty old-timer at the gas station drops when it gets this hot? Add it in the comments or send it our way. We would truly love to feature your saying (and your story) in a future High Altitude Attitude post. The best mountain humor doesn’t come from us — it comes from all of you, one ridiculous, perfect, unprintable line at a time.

Stay cool, drown your fires, and hug your sweaty dog for me.

— Faye (and Chris, who is very proud of himself right now)

Faye & Chris
Author: Faye & Chris

We're Faye and Chris, and we live up here in the Rocky Mountains of Larimer County. Everything on this site comes from actually being out in it — Chris is the driver, and Faye is the writer/photographer. Between us we built the Larimer Wilds apps so other people can find this wild mountain country too. We're not a tourism board and nobody pays us to say any of this. We're two people who love, hike, bike and ride Northwest Larimer County and would rather help you do it right than watch you learn it the hard way.

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