Homeward Bound

The last three weeks have come full circle. I am now once again snuggled up in the same exact Motel 6 in Kearney, Nebraska with my now Colorado-loving, no-leash-wearing mountain dog. We drove seven hours today and left Vail around noon. It was an easy, sunny drive and I turned up Indigo Girls and sang my heart out for the first two hours driving out of the mountains. In my mind, there's no better music for a road trip or to celebrate what you have experienced or what you're about to do. I was sad leaving. I honestly don't think there is another place in the world where I feel more myself or more at home. The locals are friendly, the skiing is second-to-none and the sunshine is plentiful! But unless some fabulous job offer falls in my lap, I think I'll have to be content vacationing there at least once a winter.

Since my last post, Jayne from Denver came up to ski and live it up in the mountains with me. There was also NYE, one hell of a hangover, a great New Year's Day brunch, more romps at the dog park, more time with Dog Park Guy and another fabulous sushi dinner.

So I may not have posted a blog every day, but I hope you all enjoyed reading them nonetheless. Reality is right around the corner for me now. One ten-hour drive tomorrow and we'll be home and this will all be just another fabulous memory.

Gunther is now sprawled out on the bed; he's dreaming and whimpering, probably thinking about chasing dogs in his snow-filled non-leash dog park down the street in Vail. Guess it's time to think about winding down so we can get an early start tomorrow. Chances are, I'll dream about the mountains too.

I am a Ski Snob

Many people who live in or near a mountain town get picky about when then ski because well, they can. This is called being a ski snob and it's a bit of a badge of honor. It means you can choose not to ski on a day when it's too cold, too icy or you're body is begging you for a break. Most ski snobs out here have what's known as an Epic Pass that makes this snobbery seem oh-so permissible.

Epic Pass: The creme d' la creme season ski pass that gets you unlimited access to all six Vail resorts with no blackout dates. Last year this pass cost $2,200 but this year, thanks to the economy and Vail's desire to lure in more long-term visitors like me, it cost only $579. This is a steal any way you look at it, trust me.

So this weekend I did it up like a local, put on my ski snob outfit and took Saturday off from the mountain. It was -11 when I got up and the thought of another cold day on the mountain with my sore-as-shit feet did not sound fun. Dog Park Guy called me first thing and offered to take me to pick up my newly-modified ski boots (awwwww) and convinced me to schedule a massage for myself that afternoon. We then went to brunch at Westside Cafe where I had a Bloody Mary and Cap'n Crunch French Toast (yes, there is such a thing and it was amazing)!

Dog Park Guy then went to work, so I took Gunther for a hike on a trail near my place. Then I headed down to Vail Village to hit up the Colorado Ski Museum (pretty interesting stuff) and then to do a little shopping. After that I had my fabulous massage and enjoyed some sushi at a nearby restaurant to continue my zenful day— and it was even happy hour on the sushi!

Sunday the weather looked much nicer but my legs were still pretty sore. I opted to head to The Beav again since I could drive and didn't have to hassle with the whole bus ordeal. Beaver Creek still amazes me: they hand out fresh baked cookies to everyone on their way into the resort every morning as well as on your way out. That place has it figured out! I didn't ski long because my feet/legs were still giving me problems. So I toured around the village for a bit before heading home, donning my ski snob grin the whole time.

Sunday night Dog Park Guy took me out to a fabulous dinner at a seafood restaurant called Montouk in Lionshead. The food was amazing and so were the bottles (yes, plural) of wine he ordered. It made for a fun night; almost as fun as our hangovers this morning.

Today I skied for a couple hours at Vail, but again the legs are just done. I talked to quite a few people about the symptoms and now it seems like there is less blame put on the boots and more on just the overuse of my legs. Specifically, I think I have some tendonitis in my lower calves. Time for another day off, Sue the ski snob says to herself.

I met up with Dog Park Guy after skiing for some Chinese food and a movie. I definitely am eating much better now that I met a fun boy. So much for my weight loss the first week and a half—I think that's about gone now!

Tomorrow is Tuesday and I can't believe I have to start thinking about leaving this place. I plan to get on the road on Friday which means I only have Wednesday and Thursday to ski with my friend Jayne when she gets up here. I guess that's a good thing though, I am really starting to miss my "home friends" and goals that focus on something other than skiing!

Dog Park Guy

When I decided to venture out here, I will admit that I struggled with the fact that I wouldn't be with my family or long-time friends on Christmas Eve and Christmas. I never once had missed our traditional gatherings, and since I didn't have many connections out here yet, I had no idea what would be in store for me on the holiday. It was the number one question people asked me when I told them about the trip, "What are you going to do on Christmas day?" Maybe it's because my friends and family knew I was a sucker for all things Christmas including: National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation, a meal with more calories than the entire McDonald's menu and yes, singing Silent Night at church on Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve day I skied until early afternoon and headed back to the house. Colleen invited me to come with her to her family gathering, but I thought that would be a little much considering she and I had yet to even do anything social together. It was a nice offer, but I opted to do my own thing. I had looked into Christmas Eve services at the Vail Chapel and knew that if nothing else, I could go there. Next I headed to the liquor store for some wine. If I had to spend Christmas Eve alone, at least I'd have red wine to keep me company. I went to West Vail Liquor and remembered that a cute guy I had met at the dog park a few days ago had said he worked there. I didn't go looking for him though, I just picked out my two bottles of Zinfandel and headed to the register. Sure enough, guess who's working the register? Dog Park Guy! He remembered me right away and then asked me what my plans were for Christmas Eve. I said I didn't have any yet, so he asked if I'd like to meet up at the dog park when he got out of work. When we met up at the dog park, he mentioned he had just picked up some nice champagne and wondered if I wanted to help him drink it. Let's see, church by myself or champagne with a cute, sweet guy? I'll opt for option #2, thank you!

Dog Park Guy and I spent Christmas Eve together, drinking, laughing and even looking through photo albums. I felt like I had known this guy forever and was pretty happy that by the end of the night we had decided to spend Christmas dinner together too.

Christmas morning I got up and hit the slopes for a few hours. When Dog Park Guy and I talked, he told me that he'd be inviting a few friends over and he'd be cooking a Christmas dinner for us. This was perfect, I'd get to spend more time with him, plus meet a lot of new locals! His menu and preparation was adorable. We had smoked Cornish Game Hens, green been casserole, salad, bread, pies, appetizers and of course, more fabulous champagne! The night was a blast. National Lampoon's Christmas played all night long, we sang drunk Christmas carols and I even learned how to inject Cornish Hens with a butter/BBQ sauce. Who knew injecting birds was a culinary technique?!

Today I woke up and hit the mountain again, but had to call it a short day because my boots were killing my feet. I had huge bruises on both of my inside ankle bones and pretty excruciating pain when I skied. I was pretty cranky. Why the hell did I buy new boots to have them destroy my feet and make it so painful I can't ski?! So I called Dog Park Guy to whine, because every once in a while everyone is permitted to whine. Dog Park Guy was so sweet. He told me to ski down and that he was going to pick me up (no bus!) and we were going to go get my boots some inserts or whatever was needed at the ski shop where his friends work. Ahhh, chivalry is not dead. I felt so relieved that here this sweet guy who I've known less than a week was taking care of me and I was loving it.

They are working on my boots tonight and I think I'm taking tomorrow and Sunday off from skiing to try and let the bruises heal. I have ice on them now and I'm pretty excited to take a break from the frigid temperatures and let my body rest for a bit. Tomorrow Dog Park Guy and I are going to breakfast before he goes to work and then I'll probably hit up yoga and the dog park again. It definitely worked well for me the first time!

Champagne (def):

Skiing in powder is the best possible scenario in a skier's career. It makes all the days of ice, overly groomed trails and shitty, hard-packed moguls worth it. It is in essence, why we ski.

Before today, I had only had one great day of powder skiing in my career and that was last January in St. Anton, Austria. And then there was today: this was hands down my best day thus far in the Vail valley and possibly my skiing career.

I started off my day coming off a nasty food poisoning of some sort that left me couch-bound yesterday. So when I woke up feeling close to normal and looked outside to see 14" of fresh powder, it was time to rally! I caught the first bus down the Lionshead to demo my new potential skis. Now I don't know if it was the skis or the fresh 14" of champagne powder (def. below), but the next five hours of skiing were something to write home about.

Champagne (noun): Light, fluffy snow so good that you want to drink it. It usually comes in depths over a foot and makes people giggle and scream the whole way down the run.

My new skis (yes, I went ahead and bought them) were amazing! The skis I had been skiing were about nine years old and didn't have any of the width to handle powder or crud. And let me tell you, these new Volkl Auras floated like little love bubbles on the champagne! Plus, they looked pretty. And just like ski boots or running shoes, you are not allowed to buy skis on aesthetics alone. But if they happen to ski like a dream and they look like something you'd see on an Aspen fashion runway, then there's no harm. Really.

I met up with my friend Jon (from my trip to Chamonix, France in '07) and we skied some fabulous runs. Skiing in powder is like none other: you float, you just think about turning and you do, and if you fall, you feel like you are on a bed of feathers. It's truly the reason we all ski and it was the best day ever!

After skiing, I met up with Pete, a new guy I had met on the mountain, for some beers and a bite at the Tap Room, a bar in the village. Then Pete and I went to Pepi's bar to meet up with Jon for a few more drinks. There was a live musician who reminded me of Jeremy Sprags from my days at Harper's at Michigan State— he sang Neil Diamond, Jimmy Buffet and James Taylor. It took me back and made me smile. It was strange that this was the 23rd of December and here I was singing, "Sweet Caroline" with strangers and yet it felt so at home.

Handwarmers and Hail Marys

It's been three frigid days of skiing since I last graced your computer with a blog entry. I figured people need a weekend away from logging on, and I needed a weekend away from thinking of how to narrate my day's happenings. And the other reason for the hiatus is that Karyn and Ed were here keeping me entertained!

Karyn and Ed's flight landed almost on time on Friday morning, which was no small miracle considering the weather conditions in Chicago. I picked them up at the Vail/Eagle airport (who doesn't love the direct O'Hare/Vail flight?!) and headed right to their hotel so they could check in and we could get on the slopes as soon as possible. We were on the mountain by about 1pm and thankfully, the temperature on Friday was a balmy 20 or so degrees! After our afternoon on the mountain, we warmed up with some cold beer, margaritas and nachos at Los Amigos in Vail Village. Part of my excitement of having K&E visit was I knew that I'd be in store for some good meals. I had been eating most meals at home since I had arrived, so the prospect eating my way through the next two days at restaurants was about as exciting as getting fresh powder!

In addition to the fabulous company and food, another great benefit of K&E's stay was that their hotel was right in Vail Village and I could valet my car there and just walk to the directly to the lift! What does this mean for me?! No bus and hellish hike back up the hill for at least two ski days! Plus their hotel had free coffee in the lobby in the mornings! Damn, how quickly I had forgotten how fabulous hotel life can be!

Saturday morning when I started my car, the car's temp gauge read an impressive -6 degrees. And yes, this was before the wind. A day like this means a lot of layers and both glove and boot warmers! My Mom had bought me a jumbo pack before the trip, and on a day like this, they honestly saved you from severe frostbite. Even with the warmers nuzzling up to all ten of my digits, it was still painfully cold at the top of the mountain. Karyn was in a lesson for the day which meant Eddie and I hit the mountain together. We opted not to hit the backside of the mountain, because the wind reports were staggering. We had a great day on the mountain, lost each other a few times due to zero visibility, but always managed to meet up on the next run or so. Thank God for cell phones on the mountain. I really can't even remember what we would do when we lost someone skiing before cell phones and text messaging. Anyway, we stopped to warm up a few times and had a great day. When Karyn bailed out of her lesson, we all met up for one last run and Karyn left me at the bottom of the mountain wondering her whereabouts for about 45 minutes. At one point, I was sure she was carried down on a stretcher and started freaking out. If I'm this overprotective with friends, I'd hate to see myself with kids!

After day two of skiing we checked out some shops, grabbed a beer and then met up for a fabulous late dinner at a place called Sweet Basil—definitely the best food on the mountain, as far as I can tell. I donned my thick chain necklace and Ed from now on will be referring to me as "Junk Yard Dog" after some wrestler in the 80s who wore a big chain. I took this as quite the compliment, especially the barking that came with it.

K&E's flight left bright and early this morning, so we ventured out to the airport in the pitch dark. Their flight got off the ground relatively on time and I was bummed to see my real friends head home. But I eased my sadness with a great bagel and a giant coffee at a little bakery/deli in Avon, near Beaver Creek. And honestly folks, it was probably the best bagel I have ever had. Sometimes it's the little things...

Once home, Colleen (my roommie out here) and I decided to hit the mountain for a few hours. It was a beautiful day once we got out, although it was still bitter cold. The sun was out for the morning though, so it seemed warmer and we headed back to Blue Sky Basin again.

Now, Colleen is a ripper of a skier:

Ripper (noun): This has nothing to do with flatulence; it's a complimentary term for someone who can seriously rip on the mountain. Someone who skis 100+ days a year and has the skills to show for it.

So Colleen basically handed my ass to me on a platinum platter. She took me down some hairy double black diamonds, and little ole Midwest here was huffing and puffing to keep up. If I was Catholic, I would have sent up a few hundred Hail Marys for stronger quads, new skis, asthma-free lungs and just plain better skiing ability. It's great to challenge yourself though. I'll never get better by cruising down blue groomed trails, no matter how pretty I look doing it. I broke off from Colleen in the afternoon, opting for walking over crawling to the mountain tomorrow. I then went to scope out some new skis (more on that tomorrow) and grab a beer at my favorite bar, Bart and Yeti's. I'd say this weekend was not a bad way to end my first full week in Vail at all!

Blizzard at The Beav

Beaver Creek is a sister resort to Vail but in sibling terms it's definitely the classier, more affluent sister. This is the place where you see just as many fur coats as you do ski parkas and frequently many of those staying at the resort don't even pretend to ski. But, since getting to Vail includes me either paying $25 to park or taking the bus (and the corresponding hike that goes with it), today I opted to check out Beaver Creek.

It's a quick drive to "The Beav" (what locals call it) and I got to the free shuttle parking lot by 8:15 or so. The lifts didn't open until 8:30, so I perused the facilities and discovered that not only do they have self flushing toilets at The Beav, they also have heated toilet seats! The bathrooms were honestly stunning: floor-to-ceiling marble, free tampons and hand lotion and leather couches in the lounge area. Beaver Creek's tagline is, "Not exactly roughing it" and they mean it! Mark, for your benefit, Beaver Creek is the sister resort to Lech/Zurs in Austria (if that gives you any clue)!

After the lifts opened, I enjoyed the resort almost to myself. Apparently rich people don't get up early to ski. I mixed up my runs and was happy to have a day to ski solo. It's great because you can ski any run you want, stop whenever and focus on your form a lot more than if you were skiing with someone else. I alternated a black run with a blue run, but the black runs at Beaver Creek really weren't as challenging as they would've been at Vail. Again, rich people like to think they are better skiers than they actually are.

It was snowing all day, but the powder was piling up and made for some great conditions. I skied through lunch again and headed up to an area of the mountain called the Rose Bowl, which is at the top of the resort, about as far away from the base as you can get. About half way down my first run in that area, the steady snow flurries suddenly turned into a blizzard in the matter of 30 seconds. I could see the snow cloud work it's way across the mountain and in moments, it was blowing horribly and I could barely see my hand in front of my face. But of course, when I got to the bottom of this run, I had to take the lift back up because I needed to take another trail to get to the bottom.

Before getting on the chair lift, I asked the lift op (definition below) what was the quickest route to the bottom. He told me the direction and to hurry down, because he just got word they were closing the mountain for the rest of the day. I had seriously never seen conditions this crazy in my life.

Lift Op (aka Liftee): The cute guy or girl who runs the chair lift. They make minimum wage, but get a free season pass. They are usually from some other country. It makes resorts like Vail and Beaver Creek appear uber global and hip.

The lift ride up was like something out of the "Everest" documentary. The chairs were blowing sideways and I couldn't feel my face. But I had no choice, I had to go up to get back down. Once at the top I skied as quickly as I could to get out of the blizzard conditions. The wind was literally pushing against me so forcefully that I could barely traverse the mountain. I made sure to keep an eye on someone in front of me so as not to get off the trail. Everyone on the mountain at this time was heading down, so there was no worry that the person I was following would be heading anywhere else.

I made it down and headed directly to the bus. I got back to my car and stopped off at Loaded Joe's (my new fave coffee shop) for some caffeine before the drive back to West Vail. I ran into Colleen and her new beau, it's amazing how small it can feel after only a few days. Then I sat in some wicked traffic on I70 since it was snowing and there was a bad pile up. It took me about an hour to get back when it should have taken me about 15 minutes. Good times!

But I'm home safe and sound now. It's pretty ugly out there tonight, so I think I'm staying in and taking it easy. Karyn and Ed are supposed to fly in tomorrow to ski for the weekend and I'm super excited to see them. But the weather in Chicago and here may have an other idea. I just hope their flight gets off safely and they don't have to cancel their trip. Cross your fingers that the weather isn't as bad as they predict it to be in Chicago tomorrow morning! I'm ready for some ski buddies!

Zen and the Art of Beverage Maintenance

Three beers go to your head quickly when you're living at an elevation of 8,200 and some odd feet. It's true, when you're at a higher altitude, you don't get as much oxygen in your blood stream, therefore beers go to your head about twice as fast. And that's why it's 8:30 at night and instead of rallying and heading back to Vail Village for more beers with some locals I just met, I have opted to relax and call it a night.

But I had a busy day, so I will use that as an excuse. When I woke up this morning my calves were still causing me to walk much like a lumbering Big Bird, so I took the day off skiing and headed to yoga instead. We got about a foot of snow overnight again, so the roads were pretty horrible. Thank God for the all-wheel-drive Audi! My yoga class was in Avon about 8 miles down I70, near Beaver Creek resort and since there was only one other person in my class, I got a lot of personal attention and was able to connect with my inner zen and my muscles.

After yoga, I discovered a great cafe called Loaded Joe's. I grabbed a coffee, caught up on email, read the local Vail Daily newspaper and prolonged my stay long enough to order up lunch. Following my zenful morning in Avon, I ran back to get the dog for a trip to the dog park just down the street. And let me tell you, dog parks are significantly different in these parts because there are no fences. Damn, these people are laid back! And if you have a dog that minds as well as Gunther, this is a bit alarming. But I armed myself with treats in my pocket, practiced a few recall commands and felt confident enough as we headed into a snowy meadow with 2 feet of fresh powder and a handful of local dogs romping. I met some great new people, all of whom had quit their "real" jobs and moved out here to work at liquor stores, restaurants or in other esteemed professions. I was inspired.

After our dog park adventure, Gunther and I continued our date together and drove into Vail, where parking is free after 3pm. We walked around town and then ventured into the one dog-friendly bar in the village, called Bart and Yeti's. Even though walking in with Gunther is like walking in with a hot wingman, it's still a bit intimidating to walk in to a crowded bar and to try to find room at the bar for your dog and yourself. But it was a cool bar, loaded with locals and walls covered with cheeky bumper stickers. It was small, eclectic and again, a place where everyone was genuinely open to saying hello. By the end of the night, I ended up meeting another great group of locals who I may ski with tomorrow and somehow didn't end up paying for even one of my beers. Now I don't know if people out here genuinely are more friendly than in Chicago or if I am just more open to it, but honestly I have met the most amazing, friendly people in the past three days. If this place continues to be this welcoming, I better be careful because I won't be able to remember why living in Chicago is such a fab choice!