A couple weeks back we loaded up the Pilot for Dude's first ski weekend. We were meeting our friends, Greg and Laura and 6 year old Trevor at Granby Ranch for the boys first stab at the Colorado sport we're all expected to be pros at. Most of us dabble, but I'm not a dabbler. I offer support from the lodge, coffee in hand and a yummy book in my lap. I'm good at that and don't fear breaking my lanky, uncoordinated legs or neck while participating in lodge activities. As we started our trek that Friday night our phones started blowing up with warnings from friends that the mountain pass we were headed to was closed due to an avalanche. Awesome. We turned around and dined on pizza and beer with our skiing buddies back in Denver. Fortunately, the pass opened at midnight, enabling us to drive up the next day and switch the boys' lesson to Sunday. It all worked out and it was beautiful weather. No coats needed.
Dude and Trevor tried out their skis on Saturday afternoon with the dads. Trevor took to it immediately - it was rather impressive I must say. Dude loved going full speed down the hill and managed to stay upright but didn't quite know how to go about steering or stopping. These skills are essential in the art of skiing. Dude had fun in his lesson but he never got off the magic carpet hill (which is kind of like the equivalent of the hill in our backyard). That was irritating, but whatever. Maybe next year. He did get a killer neck tan and Tim was a sight to behold that next week. Picture a bright red face with large white holes around his eyes where his goggles were placed. Priceless, especially given the two board meetings he had that week.
Don't be fooled by the darlingness above. She didn't ski. The man behind the counter couldn't resist her plea to have some "baby skis" and fit her for free so she could bum around outside for 30 minutes. This is about the extent of what she accomplished, but man did she look cute.
We all stayed at a condo on the property at Granby Ranch, which was added fun. You would think it's easy to get up and ski when you live 1.5 hours from some of the best skiing in the country. It's not. It's a cluster of goggles, sunblock, snot, lost gloves, frost bite, extra socks, helmets, boots, long underwear, snacks, crowds of people stompin around in 100 pound boots and MAN does it break the bank. I don't know if skiing will be a regular family activity due to some our lack of natural born coordination and agility, but hopefully we'll figure out how to get up there at least once a year.
I don't know who the over-excited and screechy woman is behind the camera. Try to ignore her if you can.
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