It's All Good!

Our last day to ski dawned to not clear skies, flurries filtering down from the heavens, and our good buddy that clears the roads with his backup beeper particularly piercing this morning.  If the movie "Groundhog Day" had not already been done, our script from the last few days would have fit right in.  But there was something a little different about today.  It was a little brighter out.  The wind had subsided, for the most part.  And I was feeling it!  Miki, not so much.  She caved to whatever subliminal stuff I was working her with and we layered up.

Last night's 7 inch accumulation brings our 3 day total to about 15 inches.

It took a few hours, but the sun broke through giving us a partly cloudy/sunny afternoon.  The temperature was in the 20's rather than single digits, the weekend crowds had not arrived yet, and the snow made for better than normal conditions to ski.

After our $20 lunch of a baked potato and a bread bowl of cheesy chicken tortilla soup (thank you resort food scalpers) we continued our day and tested out some different trails we had not attempted, due to previous conditions.  One green (beginners) run named "Woodwinds" was on our list to do and we ran it a couple of times without incident (foreshadowing).  I had noticed that it had an open area that had not been groomed (the fresh powder had not been packed down by the snowcats last night).  I ran in and out of it on the previous run to get a feel for it.  Skiing powder is a different animal than skiing "packed" powder.  I decided that I would test the waters a little further in next time.  Woodwinds has some groupings of trees scattered about that are fun to ski around (nothing dangerous) and the area that was calling me, with the 7" of new powder, was just beyond some of these trees I was skiing in and out of.  I spotted my powder point of entry.  Pointed my skis in that direction.  As I entered the powder with my ski tips up, about 10 yards into it, something very wrong took place.  My recollection was I continued to move forward (just like Newton's Laws of Motion say), but my skis evidently slowed down that in turn set a series of events in motion that resulted in the photo below.  Miki was on the other side of some trees and missed my aerial assault on the ground.  I must have cart-wheeled downhill, leaving my skis uphill from where I came to rest. All I remember was hoping that my skis would come off at some point, so as to not wrap my legs into some type of painful pretzel shape.  And that I would be required to be strapped into a sled, wrapped in a yellow blanket, and end up with some kind of plaster cast on some appendage after being towed down the mountain for all to see.  Thank goodness everything wiggled appropriately and nothing hurt, so on we went.

I presume Miki asked if I was okay first, but she couldn't wait to get a
photo of me where I landed.

I was no worse for the wear and we skied the rest of the day with no further incidences.  We both were feeling pretty good about how we were skiing at this point (barring the gymnastic portion of the program), but the lifts close at 4 and we said goodbye to the sun as we skied our way back across the mountain to the condo.

Last lift of the day. 

It is all down hill to Missouri from here (I mean that in a good way),  Blue Springs or Bust!  Maybe I shouldn't say that with my luck with flat tires!



My Zen from the Road:  Did the trip go according to plan?  No.  Did we get to ski?  Yes.  Are we healthy and safe?  So far!  I kind of wanted to get pissy about the weather and not skiing that 4th day, but it's all good.  We'll be back to play another day.

P.S.  I choose to think we were rewarded for our patience by the alpine glow in the mountains as the sun set.

Not Your Child's Snow Day

Heading to bed last evening, we were open to whatever weather nature would throw at us today.  We were both teachers.  We've been thrown up on, hugged by children while burying their heads in places that would make a normal person blush, and had our ages estimated well over the real number.  What could nature possibly do to compete with 2nd and 3rd graders to block us from fun on the mountain today?  How about 0 degrees, with random 25 mph gusts as a chaser?  We opted to find an elementary school that could abuse two old retired teachers, rather than taunt the mountain.  What it really boiled down to was some good old cabin fever.

Our wake up call came in the form of heavy equipment clearing the snow
from the road and parking lots outside our place.

Miki, the early riser she is, was the one to learn of and then share the weather outlook for the day.  Once that was conveyed, I rolled over and began practicing proper skiing form and technique in my mind for tomorrow.  Visualizing is an integral part of any successful athlete.  She chose to document my work ethic in action.

No, it had not snowed in our bed, that is my winter skin color and the remote
served as a weapon after the first photo was taken.

Hanging out in the condo for twenty-four hours didn't seem like too big of a deal.  That lasted until about 11:00 am.  Miki thought it would be good to visit the Habitat for Humanity Restore store in Silverthorne we saw on our way in.  Since Miki started volunteering at ours back home a few weeks ago, she has big plans for them!  To town we headed.

This was between white-outs as we headed to town from Copper Mountain.
The closest we have been to seeing the sun for what seems like weeks.

We hit the Restore and a favorite coffee shop of Miki's and then headed back for round two of cabin fever.

I have a feeling that this will be the first of many documented photos of
Restores we encounter on future travels.

Miki, with locally supported coffee in hand.

Home again, home again, jiggity jig.  The ski runs are almost visible as we get close to our covered parking below the condo.  The parking itself was premo, as they actually have a heater above the ramp that takes you down under the condo complex that keeps any ice and snow from making the incline unsafe (way cool).  

Foxpine Inn...our condo.  Our room is behind the middle pines just right
of center.

Miki made a wonderful stir fry lunch.  Then while she drew, I pretended to be an Alaskan State Trooper as I watched drama after drama unfold on the National Geographic Channel (of which I don't have at home thank goodness, cause the Alaskan State Trooper Academy in Sitka, is taking applications I'm sure). 

As the sun began to set (I am only assuming it was setting because of its past history since we haven't seen it in awhile) we set our sites on town again.  Because, if its Wednesday, there must be BINGO at the Elks Lodge in Silverthorne.  Being repeat players (that's right... players), we knew that a little snow wouldn't inhibit mountain bingo aficionados from a 6:30 start.  Plus we have our winning reputation to uphold.  To not disappoint and keep our winning streak alive, we had to give it a shot.

"Icy Roads" (glowing on the left) signage does not deter true bingo goers.

Our reward for risking life and limb... have you met Mr. Lincoln?
Took it on a diamond bingo pattern, but had to split it with another good bingo.

We returned home safe and sound to a big bowl of buttered popcorn and the ending of "Lords of War," again...on the National Geographic Channel...I have got to start collecting civil war guns, WWII Jeeps, and Samurai swords.

The weather for tomorrow?  We are expecting the worst and hoping for a little better than that.



My Zen from the Road:  The Elk's Lodge in Silverthorne, CO on a cold and snowy night, gathered 13 BINGO minded souls.  Each one appeared to be on the other end of the spectrum from the next.  Yet we laughed, some shared stories (others just listened), and some won a little cash.  You never know where your next fun will come from.

BBBRRRRRR!!!

Growing up I did not excel in math and as an adult I have Miki, but I do know there are less than a hand full of whole numbers less than 4.  The number...4...represents the temperature at 9:00 am as we layered up again and headed out to a beautiful blue sky.   Coincidentally, 4 also represents the inches of new snow from overnight.  Sounds impressive until you hear that other resorts in these parts got 2 feet.  There was little if any wind and the sun can make all the difference in the world, when it is cold frigid outside.

Blue skies only mean one thing...blue skies.

Did I mention it was 4 degrees!  The only up side to that number is that it is above zero, not below...which the wind chills will be getting down to later.  Heading out to brave the temps, I wondered if I were to pee my pants (don't you wonder that?) will it turn to yellow snow right away or just a nasty slushy in my long johns?

Our preparedness pays off and we ride the lift up the mountain in a false sense of warmth.   We head for the top to see a few runs we have done in the past we have not visited yet.  Plus, it is about as high as our abilities will take us.  Within the time it takes us to get there, the clouds have already started to appear.

On a clear day you would be able to see many peaks in the distance.
You can barely make out a couple among the clouds.

We found our groove and enjoyed a number of different runs from yesterday, but the cold slowly found its way into my gloves and boots and it drove us indoors for a quick warmup.  After getting some feeling and blood flow reestablished, back out we went.  A few more runs and we headed back across the mountain and in for lunch.

After another period of warming up and filling our bellies, we went out to find even more clouds setting in.  In the spirit of we paid for this, by golly we are going to do this, we set a goal of a few more runs and evaluate the numbness of our fingers and toes.

Miki pictured with somebody.

The snow was great, the number of other skiers to avoid was exceptionally low, but the clouds kept coming, the snow began to fall, and the flat light made guess work out of the terrain in front of you.  We called it a day.

I have to share dinner with you.  Homemade pizzas.  Mine would be the one that looks like a pizza and the other would be Miki's that resembles... well, you be the judge...

I am no pizza aficionado, but there is normally not a lot of green on a pizza,
is there?  And I've only seen that color green a few other times...

Pesto pizza.  Homemade pesto on the pizza to boot.  She likes hers, I like mine, and never the two shall meet.

We hunkered down for the rest of the day and evening in the condo, anticipating what nature has in store for us tomorrow.  If you believe the weather forecasters (ha!) it will be colder and windier...great!

My Zen from the Mountain:  With the skiing conditions varying through the day, determining our limits and wondering when to say when was hard, because you never knew what would blow over the peaks over the next few minutes.  We can deal with the cold, sort of.  We can deal with the never ending drippy nose, sort of.  But when the light gets to the point where you cannot distinguish fresh snow from icy patches, it gets iffy...for real.  What was for sure is that you have to get down the mountain without incident.  As odd as it may sound, I enjoyed the run down, letting my feet feel the way and trusting my ability to get down safely.  I guess any situation I find myself in, I should feel my way and trust my abilities.

Great Expectations

As a teacher, I set my expectations high.  This was done in hopes of challenging those at the top, setting goals and prompting those students that were most like myself, and inspiring those that needed a push.  As a middle aged skier, and I use those adjectives with pride and distain in the same breath, you need to set your expectations high as well.  Sure, we could go out on the slopes of Copper Mountain and get by, but who does that?  We want to look good, have fun, and not hurt ourselves in the process (emphasis on the lookin' good part!).  so how do we start our day... Snoqualmie blueberry pancakes is how.  Plate sized, hot off the  stove, butter drenched, light to medium brown, hold your stomach it hurts so good, punched with plump juicy blueberries, and drizzled with Log Cabin syrup pancake bundles of heaven.  That's how.  (refer to Sept. 2012..."On a Mission" for visual stimuli)

With breakfast packed away, and I do mean packed, Miki and I started layering on any chances for warmth we would have until lunch.  But with the breakfast above, lunch would be more of a snack than anything else.  The last step of prep work for getting to the ski lift and onto the mountain is placing both feet in ski boots.  It has never been the easiest of feets feats for me to accomplish without wincing facial expressions and an inordinate number of bodily sounds to aid in the effort.  Once on, the boots fit like a glove, but the activity itself is under the category of chore for me.  You skiers out there know what I am talking about, don't you pretend your feet glide in with smiley faces attached.

We are full, we are layered, our feet are set in concrete, we are ready to hit the slopes.... one more thing.  Besides the plethora of items we (me) take along with us in various pockets, we must dawn our ski lift passes.  Ours are like I.D. badges you may have at work and are zip-tied on to something on the front of your jacket, so the lift operators can scan your barcode and see that you are legit.  In my excitement of the moment and the anticipation of almost having the mountain to ourselves, I zip-tied my badge to my lower of the two zippers that control the front of my coat.  The top zipper is the primary opener and closer, while the lower zipper can be used to unzip the jacket from the bottom up if so desired.  So now my badge is dangling like a virtual fig leaf, as if I were Adam in THE garden, being the humble man I try to be.  What a newbie thing to do.  As you go through the lift line to get on the lift, the operators grab your pass to position it to be scanned with their little handheld scanner machine.  Not to embarrass myself or them, now I have to grab it myself and lift it up and make it readily available for my scan.  I did get more than the ordinary number of sincere thank yous... and I did reposition my pass during our lunch break, thank you very much!

It started out as a partly cloudy day on the mountain and by 11:00, as predicted, the clouds thickened up and snow began to lightly fall.  We have never been skiing with so few skiers sharing the same real estate.  It was awesomeness.

Our condo is a "ski-in, ski-out" place, so we can literally ski almost to
the doors that we use to enter our condo building.  This is the Super Bee
lift, a sand wedge shot away from our place.

Looking back up one of the runs we just came down, you
can see how not busy it is...did I say awesomeness already?

After getting our ski legs under us and getting the lay of the trails, we headed in for a lunch break.  A little "Porky's" BBQ was chased down with some brownies before heading back out to test the inch of snow that had fallen in the past hour.

The lunch of Champions!  Okay, maybe middle aged, retired skiers.

The view out our window (to the parking lot)... you can't have everything.

With the weather conditions as they were, yeah snow!  The visibility deteriorated to where it was harder to see where you were going and we called it quits, because we wanted to live to ski another day with all our original equipment in tact.  So what do old skiers do when getting off the hill for the day...

...that's right...flaunt whatcha got at the outdoor hot tub baby.  Have you ever walked through snow in flip flops?  How about hopped in and out of a hot tub to set the timer on your camera to take stupid pictures for a friggin' blog.  Thank goodness for hot water!  As each snowflake blessed our heads as it fell from the sky, we watched and made fun of all the skiers as they made their way down each run from our "womb with a view."  And no I am not covered in snow, that is my winter skin color.

We grabbed our gear and headed in as things began to shrivel and shrink looking for warmth.  And like all good skiers after coming off the mountain, we cleaned up and headed for the local Walmart.

Just left of center is an orange speck, just below the treeline along the lake.
 It is connected to a black dot, just below it and to the left.  Together they
make a kite skier on frozen Lake Dillon.

We have now officially crashed for the night after a dinner of nachos and bad TV.  More snow is forecast for the over night hours.  We are keeping all digits crossed and expecting good snow and good lighting tomorrow, to see well enough to maneuver in and around it.  Chow!



My Zen from the Slopes:  Skiing, like anything you do when you do it well, feels good.  Miki is a good skier and looks good as she glides back and fourth across the snow.  She likens it to dancing.  Me, I weave in and out of dancing and controlled chaos as I work my way down the mountain.  I must say that over the years of skiing though, I am dancing more than creating scared looks by onlookers.  So, if you enjoy doing something, forget how you look.  It is about having fun and enjoying what you are doing and who you are with.  Now, if you can do that and look good doing it, then you just added the icing on the cake, but the cake is still good without the icing!

Add Ski Bum to our Resume's

AM!

That's right...AM!  I haven't seen that time on a clock for awhile.  But that is when we arose... well...Miki arose... while I had a talk with myself to see if I could arise with her and head WEST to find snow to ski on.  

When you are done feeling sorry for me for getting up so early (snicker, snicker), looking back... the day was meant to be (even at that early hour) and everything fell into place all the way to Copper Mountain.  It didn't seem that way as I was packing the car as I carried out load after load thinking, what are two people doing with all this stuff.

The only saving grace was that the dogs weren't coming too (not enough room for all the alpha dogs in this family).  We left them with a bag of dog food, raw hides, and enough peanut butter to pave the driveway with it (hopefully they won't).  We can only assume the bag of dog food lasted most of today.

Not sure where the house sitter will be sleeping.

We hit the road before 6 (yes...AM) and headed straight for breakfast.  The photos below need no explanation.  And may I say...Miki held her own!

This is frame-worthy!

If Lance Armstrong had given Krispy Kremes a shot
(no pun intended), he would not have had a doping problem.

After lining our tummies with pure warm goodness and joy, we set our sites on the span of real estate between Missouri and Colorado.  I must say that whether the Kansas tourism board or some electric power tycoons are responsible, the addition of all the new wind generating machines that have sprouted on the plains have made the journey more interesting over the last few years.  The morning's fog added interest by hiding the top halves in some areas, making them look like the trunks of gigantic mushrooms.  And in other areas the blades would disappear in the fog as they hit the top half of their circumference and reappear as they arced down from the clouds... very cool (if you are scratching your head trying to visualize it, you probably had to be there...trust me...very cool). 

Once the field of whirly gigs passed, we were left with the rest of Kansas...

A picture is worth a 1,000 miles!

In all fairness, eastern Colorado is Kansas, all the way to the foothills of the Rockies.  And with the speed limit a consistent 75 mph (which means 80), every mile is worth it to get to this...

Love heading up!

As we headed into the mountains just west of Denver, the traffic seemed normal, but soon those coming down out of the mountains started stacking up and shortly it was bumper to bumper...two lanes wide...all the way to the divide.  Miles and miles.  We counted our blessings as we laughed and thumbed our noses to the poor saps going the other way (that didn't sound very nice, I take it all back... but, it is probably too late now).

We made our drive in 10 hours, door to door and will now settle in after acquiring our skis, some groceries, and watching the darkness take away the mountains as we starting thinking snow.

What do the snow gods have in store for us?  Will we continue an injury free streak while tempting fate?  Whose thighs will scream first (Wallie's).  Stay tuned... while we look for our insurance cards...!



My Zen from the Road:  After 30 years of sharing the road with Miki, we have had the good fortune to clock a bunch of miles together.  Today was the first time that I didn't drive 90% of the time and pay the price of dry eyes and other assorted bodily breakdowns.  Just because I am awake, does not mean that I have to be behind the wheel, which was my previous thought process.  Good for me... we'll see if it is good for Miki.  It is okay to share the load!


FYI...If you get this blog by email, it seems as though it comes almost a day later than when I post it (don't know why).  I usually post something at the end of each day.  If you want it ASAP, then you need to go to the website to access it.  I didn't know this, since I don't follow myself, until some of you blogdogs asked.  I learn something new everyday every once in awhile!    www.walliebloggin.blogspot.com