After that we did a bunch of boring stuff like grocery shop and eat lunch. We took a hike on the Turkey Creek Trail (6.7 miles at around 8,600 ft) and saw some very beautiful scenery.
Skunk cabbage seen off Turkey Creek Trail
Manly Hollis drinking a Pagosa Brewery Growler.
All semblances to manliness are gone after this picture. 
Turkey Creek.
San Juan River... completely full!
About the lack of grits...Hollis' maternal grandparents were of Czech and Scots/Irish descent, transplanted from the north by way of New York City and Detroit/Philadelphia. Growing up, the closest we came to grits being served in our home, was Cream of Wheat with butter and brown sugar on cold winter mornings. I remember viewing grits during Sunday, after church, lunches with wide-what-is-that?-yuck!-eyes, and passing every time. Therefore, I never developed an affinity for grits and as an adult/mom I served Hollis plenty if Cream of Wheat (oatmeal,eggs,etc...), just no grits. Sorry, honey! I hear there are some delicious grits out there, though :)
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