Let's Go!

One of the activities Miki and I have shared over the years is going skiing and until we retired, it was primarily carried out over a long weekend or a spring break.  Once we had time back on our side, we decided to dust off our ski goggles and see if we still had it.

That was three winters ago and we've been each year since.  The new question wasn't should we, but how often.  This trip was the second time (the first being about a month ago) and we wanted to see if it was something we want to do more than once a year.

Plans were made, ski rentals reserved, a condo lined up (after three tries), and we were preparing to take off Sunday morning, bright and early.  As we I was sitting around Saturday evening around 6:00, as Miki was cleaning and making last minute food prep, the phone rings.

You might remember a friend of ours, Greg, from previous blog entries from 2011.  More specifically from the Canada Parts I-VI entries.  Upon answering the phone, Greg had some concern to his voice and asked if we had checked the weather in Denver for tomorrow (Sunday), the day we had planned on driving out to Copper Mountain to ski.  After responding with a lackadaisical..."no, not recently"..., he brought to my attention that they were expecting blizzard conditions Sunday.  After picking up my jaw from the floor and replacing it, I thanked him, got off the phone with a sense of urgency, looked at Mik...at which time we looked at our options.  And of course, we (I) said...LET'S GO!  How soon can you be ready?  We were on the road at 7:30, pointed west.

A little background:  I had some struggles landing a condo, but eventually got it figured out...after getting charged for one TWICE that we did not even get.  Got ski rentals set, then had to change them slightly, due to the condo fiasco just mentioned.  Things seemed to be stacking up against this being an effortless adventure.  So, we get the car loaded, house sitter squared away for an earlier than agreed to date, we head out on I-70, and in no more than a minute, we are in a sea of slow moving red lights.  AAaaahhhhhh!!!

Just passed Woods Chapel Road heading towards Little Blue Parkway.
All I see (besides red! in more ways than one) is the blizzard we were trying
to avoid.

Luckily, 15 minutes later, my speed was restored, but the sense of urgency had my blood a-pumpin'.  Some of you might remember that Miki and I (years ago) spent an eternity over 3 days stuck in Wakeeney, Kansas, after being forced off I-70 during blizzard conditions.  That was not going to repeat itself.

After a less than auspicious start, we slipped seamlessly out of Missouri and cruised all the way to Hayes.  Kansas was covered in a blanket of snow, giving the night run across the prairie a new look.  The fields of wind machines generating energy were barely visible in the darkness of the night, if not for their blinking red lights.  These pulsing lights were in unison rather than what I would have thought would have been a random pattern, like fireflies on a summer night.  Dozens and dozens of them, all blinking together.  Kinda cool.  After filling up with gas in Hayes, Miki took over at the wheel and almost immediately we found ourselves enveloped in fog...WHAT?!  The nearly full moon's glow was scattered by the snow and gave us a night light to travel by, but the fog was thick and lasted for over 100 miles.  

With A LOT of imagination (yes I took a picture of the lights), you might
be able to see...well maybe not, but if you find yourself traveling through
Kansas in the middle of the night, it is something to see.
You probably had to be there, huh?

I must say that Miki did not take my encouragement to drive faster, so we
would get out of the fog faster as a good plan.

We outlasted the fog and made it to the outskirts of Denver in the wee morning hours, where as predicted, the snow began to fall.  The snow by itself was okay.  It was the blowing blizzard conditions we were trying to avoid.  The whole trip was made worthwhile, just getting to travel through Denver alone (almost) on the road.

We headed into the mountains and quickly found ourselves on packed snow.  With little if any competition for space on the road, I hogged the center of the two lanes and plowed on toward Eisenhower Tunnel.  Before long we made it to Silverthorne, CO by 4 in the morning.  With nothing open and nowhere to go, having met our goal of not getting stuck in a blizzard, we found a covered parking garage and took a nap.

We have arrived!

We made it.  But we are about 10 hours early.  We've got no where to go, no real plan, other than hoping to get into our condo early.  Check out isn't until 10 and who knows how long it will take to clean it.  So, what is a young couple in love to do, to pass the time?  (Clean it up!)  We went to breakfast!

The Butterhorn Bakery and Cafe was the only game in town to take us off the street.  Up to this point we had slept in a small parking garage, cruised Walmart (when only the stockers were there stocking shelves), drove around with the heater on... homeless was starting to appear on our resumés.  Thank goodness for the Butterhorn.

Miki's bagel and lox.  Looks kind of RAW to me, but she rreeaallyy
liked it.  It is missing something...like syrup or sugar or a yellow yoke.

It was biscuits and gravy with a couple of fried eggs on top for this homeless man

I did it justice.  The waitress' tip was not for her service at the table,
but helping deliver me to the car afterwards.

The rest of the day until around 2 was filled with more homeless stuff, at which time we took up residence in our condo.  Interestingly enough (or not) it is located next to the building we stayed at a month ago on our first ski outing.  This time we have the mountain side view rather than the parking lot.

The Super Bee Ski Lift is center left and JJ's Bar is just out of sight below it.
Our nieces have fond memories of JJ's from last spring, when they were
surrounded by baby boomers (and older) reliving their youth through song
and alcohol.

Well, another day, another adventure.  I think it has been about 48 hours since I've slept...the parking garage didn't set the right mood for me to sleep, but Mik had no problem with it.  Slumberland awaits me.  Miki has already taken her place there, so it is time to put this blog to bed.  Tomorrow being another day...well, that means another adventure and even though this trip struggled to take place, we're on it.



My Zen from the Road:  The field of wind turbines, as seen only by their red blinking lights, sitting on top, going off and on together, really did grab something emotional in me last night...which is kind of weird by itself, but there were a few machines that seemed to be listening to the beat of a different drummer.  Of the dozens and dozens and dozens of synchronized lights in the distant night, a handful were lighting up one by one, alone.  I think what got to me about this was that while teaching, I saw a number of lights that flashed, not with the group, but individually on their own (for you literal people, I am comparing the lights to my students...ya with me?).  It wasn't bad, or good.  Stupid or smart.  Slow or fast.  It was just their light.  You don't have to be a teacher to see this analogy, but sometimes it may take something unusual or weird to bring it to your attention.  I think we all have our moments when we blink out of unison and it makes for some pretty spectacular night viewing.