Breckenridge

Skiing! Hooray!

Wait, let me back up and thank K again for picking me up at the airport at 11 p.m. And then taking me and T back to the airport at oh-dark-thirty the next morning. You are a rock star. Or PhD candidate. One of the two.

I lucked out two flights in a row in terms of capacity. Our flight to Denver wasn't remotely full, and it just so happened that Dad's reading light didn't work. He went and sat in the row behind me, which left me (again) with three seats to myself. So I took a nap for a couple of hours. I didn't even hear them come by with the beverage cart, or I would have asked for seven cups of coffee.

We (Dad) rented a car, and off we went, headed towards Breck. On the way there, driving west on I-70, we passed through charming Silverthorne, Colorado, where it is very cold.

Brr. It was significantly warmer in Breck, don't worry. We arrived, did a grocery run, and got me some skis. The afternoon was lovely, sunny and relatively warm, and we had a good few warm-up ski runs. It takes a bit to get back into the swing of it, especially if you're like me and ski once a year. I finished up the afternoon with the usual dip in the hot tub.

Dinner that night was at the Southridge Seafood Grill, and was quite tasty. We split the blue crab dip as an appetizer, and both had lamb for dinner: I had the special, which consisted of three lamb T-bones on goat cheese polenta with asparagus; T had the Colorado lamb meatballs, which had a very Mediterranean flair.

Friday was my big ski day. Dad set me up with a lesson with G, who is an incredible skier, and never laughed at me when I fell down :-) Which I did a couple times that day, although I think I avoided that fate for most of the rest of the weekend (see below). Skiing with G was great! I learned a ton, and could see some big improvement, even over the course of a single day. Don't get me wrong, it's not totally intuitive yet. Most of the time I still have to think about what I learned, but it was definitely better by the last day!

And perhaps best of all (sorry Dad!), G and I took the T-bar up to the lower section of the North Bowl to do some runs I had never done before. We did probably the easiest ones up there - Pika, Ptarmigan, and Four O'Clock - but still, I did it! It was great fun. It was awfully windy on the ride up, and it had started snowing maybe half an hour before we took our first ride up. It was cold, but so much fun I didn't care! (This is a video a guy took of his ride up the T-bar. It's not particularly interesting, but about 10 seconds in, he (she?) sweeps the camera to the right, and you get an idea of how wide open it is - and hence, how you get monstrous, howling winds crossing from the right. Brr!

Above the T-Bar with Gene

Friday night brought dinner at Le Petit Paris, a delightful little French bistro (which doesn't appear to have its own website). My appetizer was a bowl of French onion soup, because how can you not get that when you're at a bistro, especially if you've been on a cheesy soup kick like I have lately? I had a light dinner - a salad with goat cheese and some other stuff (but the goat cheese was the most important) - because I had seen that there was a molten chocolate cake with creme anglaise on the menu for dessert. It was delightful, and so big that I couldn't even finish it. I couldn't finish a chocolate dessert. Whoa.

Saturday I skied with T in the morning, and we were totally diggin' the righteous pow! (Haha! I am so not a snowboarder.) It hadn't stopped snowing all night, and there were probably ten to twelve inches of fresh powder up at the top of the runs, although down lower there was maybe half that. I played around on Peaks 8 and 9 by myself that afternoon, just practicing my new skills. Dad and I had breakfast for dinner - french toast - and Graeter's mint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert. There was some good eating that weekend!

Sunday brought - surprise! - more skiing. And more snow; it just didn't stop! T and I skied Peaks 9 and 10 in the morning, and then stopped for lunch. I was pondering whether or not to go out and ski the afternoon, standing by the windows and checking out the weather. Just as I concluded it wasn't too windy and would probably be a nice afternoon, she blew a gale and there was a complete white-out as snow came pouring off the rooftops and mountainside. Perfect timing!

But I didn't let that stop me; I had a good feeling about that afternoon. Here's why: it was still snowing, and not only were there no lift lines to speak of, but the mountain was completely empty. There's only one lift on Peak 7, the Independence Superchair, and each chair seats six. There were multiple runs up the mountain when I was the only person on my chair! The reason: it was Super Bowl Sunday. Peak 7 is great though - long runs, rolling hills. I got lots of practice using my new skills. It was still windy though, and I went in when I could no longer feel my toes. We had another at-home dinner that night, and sure enough watched the Super Bowl. And by "watched the Super Bowl," I mean the TV was on, but I had to ask T the next day who had won. Turns out, Green Bay won, in case anyone out there doesn't know.

Monday morning brought more of the same: snow and wind. T and I almost bailed, but at the last minute decided to bundle up tight and give it a go. And boy was that a good idea! We took a couple easy runs to warm up our legs, then skied some real hills on 9 and 10. We skied the moguls on American, and made it down with only a few minor disasters. I fell and lost a ski, and I don't think I got locked in all the way, because just a bump or two below that, I threw the same ski again. But no injuries, and it was my first full mogul run (and T's too, I think). But then things got even better. Our last two runs of the morning, down Double Jack and Four O'Clock were awesome! For both of us, which makes it even more awesome. I was just all coming together, and we were skiing! Like, really skiing. Which was wicked. What a way to end the trip.

And end it we did. It had been snowing long enough that the road cams showed snow accumulation on I-70, and we wanted to make sure we had plenty of time to get to the airport. Good thing, too!

Traffic on I-70 headed back to Denver

Despite the busy roads, we made it in plenty of time. We even had time to stop for a late lunch at Mesa Verde, a Tex-Mex restaurant at the airport which, despite marketing itself as a smoking lounge, has some pretty good food and a non-smoking section. The flight home delayed by about 45 minutes, but was otherwise delightfully uneventful. K picked us up at the airport (again), this time in Dad's car, and look what happened just as we pulled into the garage when we got home:

All in all, it was another great vacation - what a great way to spend the miserably cold midwinter!