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!
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
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!
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!
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
A Date with the Dentist
Third dates are always a make it or break it kind of thing. My theory is most "relationships" either end after three dates, three months, or three years. So I figured why not have a third date with a guy I am dating in Chicago out here in Vail?! In honor of this guy's pride and anonymity in case we continue dating, I will impart a Sex and the City guise and hereby refer to him as, Mr. Dentist.
Mr. Dentist had plans to be out in Summit County long before I told him I would be out here, so there's no strange stalker behavior on either of our parts that lead to this third date. On our second date back in Chicago, he asked if I'd like to meet up with him for a day of skiing after we realized that we'd both be out here at the same time. Considering I have a whole lot of nothing planned for my three weeks out here, meeting up to ski with a cute boy I'm dating sounded just what the doctor, er dentist, ordered. Ahh, bad puns never get old!
Anyway, Mr. Dentist and I met up at Mid Vail this morning, and I'll admit to some trepidation on meeting a guy for a third date to ski. For one, I had no idea how good of a skier Mr. Dentist was. Most skiers from the Midwest say they are good skiers, but then in person I've been underwhelmed at best. And on the other hand, I didn't want him to be ridiculously good where I felt intimidated by his skills (read into this statement all you'd like). Next, it was about 5 degrees and snowing like mad which meant lots of layers of clothing, serious snot runnage and a nose as bright as Rudolph. In other words, prime conditions for a flattering third impression. Oh, and to top that off, you get to look forward to meeting his family later in the day if the date goes well.
But we have good news on all fronts: Mr. Dentist is a great skier for Midwest standards, but not too good for me. We skied a full day of runs both in the back bowls as well as the front side of the mountain. The snow didn't let up all day and left us both with some nasty wind burn when we met up with his Mom, Dad and brother. And might I add, that his 60+ year old parents were damn good skiers for any age standards. Good genes are definitely part of the equation here!
Around 4pm after last chair, we went to a bar in Lionshead (one of two base villages in Vail) and I inadvertently ordered a giant 24-oz can of PBR. I'm quite sure his family thought I was a lush because Mommma Dentist, Daddy Dentist and Big Brother Dentist all ordered soda. But I drank it down anyway and think I managed to make a good impression on the whole Dentist family in spite of my PBR oil can.
The only bad news is that at the end of day two my calves are literally so sore that I can't walk without looking like a cripple. It's more like hobbling and I'm not sure if skiing is in my future tomorrow even though we got a good twelve or so new inches of snow today. Good news is, more snow is on the way so it might be time for a yoga/spa day after all!
Mr. Dentist had plans to be out in Summit County long before I told him I would be out here, so there's no strange stalker behavior on either of our parts that lead to this third date. On our second date back in Chicago, he asked if I'd like to meet up with him for a day of skiing after we realized that we'd both be out here at the same time. Considering I have a whole lot of nothing planned for my three weeks out here, meeting up to ski with a cute boy I'm dating sounded just what the doctor, er dentist, ordered. Ahh, bad puns never get old!
Anyway, Mr. Dentist and I met up at Mid Vail this morning, and I'll admit to some trepidation on meeting a guy for a third date to ski. For one, I had no idea how good of a skier Mr. Dentist was. Most skiers from the Midwest say they are good skiers, but then in person I've been underwhelmed at best. And on the other hand, I didn't want him to be ridiculously good where I felt intimidated by his skills (read into this statement all you'd like). Next, it was about 5 degrees and snowing like mad which meant lots of layers of clothing, serious snot runnage and a nose as bright as Rudolph. In other words, prime conditions for a flattering third impression. Oh, and to top that off, you get to look forward to meeting his family later in the day if the date goes well.
But we have good news on all fronts: Mr. Dentist is a great skier for Midwest standards, but not too good for me. We skied a full day of runs both in the back bowls as well as the front side of the mountain. The snow didn't let up all day and left us both with some nasty wind burn when we met up with his Mom, Dad and brother. And might I add, that his 60+ year old parents were damn good skiers for any age standards. Good genes are definitely part of the equation here!
Around 4pm after last chair, we went to a bar in Lionshead (one of two base villages in Vail) and I inadvertently ordered a giant 24-oz can of PBR. I'm quite sure his family thought I was a lush because Mommma Dentist, Daddy Dentist and Big Brother Dentist all ordered soda. But I drank it down anyway and think I managed to make a good impression on the whole Dentist family in spite of my PBR oil can.
The only bad news is that at the end of day two my calves are literally so sore that I can't walk without looking like a cripple. It's more like hobbling and I'm not sure if skiing is in my future tomorrow even though we got a good twelve or so new inches of snow today. Good news is, more snow is on the way so it might be time for a yoga/spa day after all!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Lexicon Lesson #3 & #4
Today was day one on the slopes and I have a sore shoulder and a few good stories to prove it. I got up early to aim for first tracks:
First tracks: The envy of every skier's eye; when you get first access to new snow and get to leave your "tracks" behind you as you schuss down the mountain.
Now the big snow here fell on Saturday night and Sunday, so this was not fresh powder, but since Vail had not opened Blue Sky Basin (one of the best places for powder) on Sunday due to avalanches, that meant today the snow would be pretty good in Blue Sky. Plus it was my first day. And I was never one to be late for the first day of anything. So I was up at 6:30 and treking to the bus by 7:45. Now, when Colleen was telling me about her place, she mentioned her place was "right on the bus route." This statement was a lie. It is about a half mile from the stop, which wouldn't be bad if their was not a ridiculously steep decline on the way there and incline on the way back, at the end of the day when your legs are fried. Adding to the complexity and joy of this walk, is that it's slippery as hell on the way down, you are walking in ski boots and carrying your skis and poles. Oh yeah, at it's -8 at this time of day.
The bus came on time though and I made it to the mountain by 8:30. The lift straight out of Vail Village was closed and that meant I got to hike another half mile uphill carrying my skis to another lift. When I got there, two nice guys in line for the lift asked me to join them on the way up. This is common practice, but I must have had my charm working for me because at the end of the lift, they invited me to ski with them for the day. They were nice, cute and of course, two single guys from Denver, I mean Menver. The rumor is that Denver has about six men for every woman. Remind me why I don't live there again, please?
Anyway, Chad and Ben and I headed over for a day of pretty hard skiing in Blue Sky Basin. Since it wasn't fresh powder and it was so blasted cold out, this made the snow extremely grabby:
Grabby: Snow that is so cold that it doesn't glide easily under your skis. And it unexpectedly can grab your skis and throw your body forward and make you look like a cartoon character who was hit from behind by a semi truck.
And this folks, is what happened to me and resulted in one impressive fall that reaffirmed my faith in my new helmet. I was cruising along at a pretty good clip, following cute Ben and that nasty, mean, grabby snow stopped my skis dead in their tracks. And we all know how physics works, the momentum of your body wants to keep going at that same zippy speed. Thus, you are literally thrown out of your skis and ususally land on your head, which I did. Thankfully the snow was pretty soft and my helmet was new. I then hit with my right shoulder. For a minute I didn't move. Thoughts raced through my head and I said to myself, "Holy shit, what if you came all the way out here to ski for three weeks and you break your shoulder on the first day?!" But then I wiggled it and realized I was fine. Cute Ben came back to help me get back in my skis (which were about 20 feet behind me), I shook it off and we kept on skiing for another 3 hours or so in some wicked fun, knee-deep powder.
At about 3pm, my legs were absolutely fried. Apparently I didn't do nearly enough squats for this kind of heavy snow skiing. So I said buh-bye to my new friends and we said we'd meet up again if they come up to Vail again in the next few weeks. I then headed to the Tap Room in Vail Village for a beer at the bar. I have never been one who is good at going to the bar by myself. Guys do it all the time, but for some reason it's hard for a lot of us women. But I guess that's why I'm here: to do things that aren't in the norm, to become a better a skiier and a bit of a more interesting person too. So I grabbed a beer, chatted it up with the bartender and got an invitation to come back for all-you-can eat wings night at 5pm. He must have known I was from the Midwest!
First tracks: The envy of every skier's eye; when you get first access to new snow and get to leave your "tracks" behind you as you schuss down the mountain.
Now the big snow here fell on Saturday night and Sunday, so this was not fresh powder, but since Vail had not opened Blue Sky Basin (one of the best places for powder) on Sunday due to avalanches, that meant today the snow would be pretty good in Blue Sky. Plus it was my first day. And I was never one to be late for the first day of anything. So I was up at 6:30 and treking to the bus by 7:45. Now, when Colleen was telling me about her place, she mentioned her place was "right on the bus route." This statement was a lie. It is about a half mile from the stop, which wouldn't be bad if their was not a ridiculously steep decline on the way there and incline on the way back, at the end of the day when your legs are fried. Adding to the complexity and joy of this walk, is that it's slippery as hell on the way down, you are walking in ski boots and carrying your skis and poles. Oh yeah, at it's -8 at this time of day.
The bus came on time though and I made it to the mountain by 8:30. The lift straight out of Vail Village was closed and that meant I got to hike another half mile uphill carrying my skis to another lift. When I got there, two nice guys in line for the lift asked me to join them on the way up. This is common practice, but I must have had my charm working for me because at the end of the lift, they invited me to ski with them for the day. They were nice, cute and of course, two single guys from Denver, I mean Menver. The rumor is that Denver has about six men for every woman. Remind me why I don't live there again, please?
Anyway, Chad and Ben and I headed over for a day of pretty hard skiing in Blue Sky Basin. Since it wasn't fresh powder and it was so blasted cold out, this made the snow extremely grabby:
Grabby: Snow that is so cold that it doesn't glide easily under your skis. And it unexpectedly can grab your skis and throw your body forward and make you look like a cartoon character who was hit from behind by a semi truck.
And this folks, is what happened to me and resulted in one impressive fall that reaffirmed my faith in my new helmet. I was cruising along at a pretty good clip, following cute Ben and that nasty, mean, grabby snow stopped my skis dead in their tracks. And we all know how physics works, the momentum of your body wants to keep going at that same zippy speed. Thus, you are literally thrown out of your skis and ususally land on your head, which I did. Thankfully the snow was pretty soft and my helmet was new. I then hit with my right shoulder. For a minute I didn't move. Thoughts raced through my head and I said to myself, "Holy shit, what if you came all the way out here to ski for three weeks and you break your shoulder on the first day?!" But then I wiggled it and realized I was fine. Cute Ben came back to help me get back in my skis (which were about 20 feet behind me), I shook it off and we kept on skiing for another 3 hours or so in some wicked fun, knee-deep powder.
At about 3pm, my legs were absolutely fried. Apparently I didn't do nearly enough squats for this kind of heavy snow skiing. So I said buh-bye to my new friends and we said we'd meet up again if they come up to Vail again in the next few weeks. I then headed to the Tap Room in Vail Village for a beer at the bar. I have never been one who is good at going to the bar by myself. Guys do it all the time, but for some reason it's hard for a lot of us women. But I guess that's why I'm here: to do things that aren't in the norm, to become a better a skiier and a bit of a more interesting person too. So I grabbed a beer, chatted it up with the bartender and got an invitation to come back for all-you-can eat wings night at 5pm. He must have known I was from the Midwest!
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Climate Change
When I rested my weary head on my slightly scratchy Motel 6 pillow last night, it was about 52 degrees. So warm that I didn't even bother bringing a coat in the hotel with me. And then I woke up. Apparently Chicago isn't the only place where weather can change on a dime, because when it was time to let the dog do his business outside, it was -2 out, and that was before the windchill which must have been impressive because it was 40mph gusts. Great, and the forecast said snow was on the way.
I got ready quickly this a.m. and was back on 1-80 by 7:15 in order to avoid as much of the snow as possible and get as far as I could if I needed to stay the night somewhere else. It was pitch dark and blowing like crazy. These cornfields are crazy! And you should've seen these poor freezing cows just standing out there! I mean it was cold and they were just standing there with snow piling up on their backs! Anyway, about an hour in to my trip, the snow really started coming down along with the blowing. The driving conditions got so bad that I had to turn off today's book on tape (Kafka on the Shore) because concentrating on anything but the road in front of me was too much for me. The snow squalled and blew; pumping gas in it was a treat. It then slightly let up until I crossed into Colorado. And the snow really started to fly. No plows had been out yet, so it was just a one-lane road and white knuckles the whole way. By the time I got to Denver, there was about 8 unplowed inches on the road, but it finally stopped snowing.
It was time for a break. Gunther and I stopped to meet Jayne (my resident Colorado friend) and tour her condo in Denver. It was a cute place, except the toliet was clogged from some male houseguest the night before. And I hadn't pee'ed in about 6 hours and 3 coffees ago. So I attempted to plunge her toilet (good friend, eh?) but it didn't work. So I just pee'ed on top of the mess and shut the lid. Swell. Let's go to lunch, Jayne.
Jayne brought me to a cute brunch place nearby called Snooze or something like that. I left Gunther in the car since I was afraid he might chew up Jayne's condo. It was good comfort, Colorado food and of course, I had more coffee to amp me up for the rest of my drive up I-70 to Vail. In good weather, the drive should take an hour and a half. But this was not good weather. Reports said Vail and most of Summit County got a foot of powder in the last 12 hours, which is great for skiing, but bad for driving. But I took it slow though and made it Vail in a little over two hours.
I got a little lost finding Colleen's (and now my) condo because none of the roads are marked, but thankfully Colleen talked me in on the cell. Thank god there's reception up here! For those of you who don't know, I had never met Colleen. She is a friend of Jayne's who opened up her condo to me and the hound for the time. She's getting paid well, but still I had to wonder what was wrong with this girl. Good news: so far nothing! She seems laid back and cool although she's a ridiculous health food/organic/vitamin/tea freak. But I guess that's good. Maybe my big, cheese-loving thighs could learn something from her.
Colleen has a dog too, named Oso. Oso gave a few good growls and snaps at Gunther, so the two are being separated for now. I think that'll pass though. Colleen helped me haul in all my stuff, showed me the bus map and schedule and made me some hot tea (I got to choose between about 30 different kinds)! My room is nice enough, pretty plain which is good since the crate Gunther was supposed to stay in (Colleen had one) isn't big enough for him to turn around in. So I think I'm just going to lock him in the bedroom when I leave and hope for the best. If he opts to chew anything, it will only be my things anyway. At least I'd like to think he won't chew the dresser, the floor lamp or the bed, which is about all that's in here.
So that is the summary of day two's drive. It took a little longer than expected, but I'm here safe and sound in Vail and relaxing on a pretty comfy bed. I'm definitely going to bed early tonight to prepare for some first tracks at Vail's Blue Sky Basin. It was closed today for avalanch dynamiting, which means all that fresh powder will be waiting for me tomorrow morning!
I got ready quickly this a.m. and was back on 1-80 by 7:15 in order to avoid as much of the snow as possible and get as far as I could if I needed to stay the night somewhere else. It was pitch dark and blowing like crazy. These cornfields are crazy! And you should've seen these poor freezing cows just standing out there! I mean it was cold and they were just standing there with snow piling up on their backs! Anyway, about an hour in to my trip, the snow really started coming down along with the blowing. The driving conditions got so bad that I had to turn off today's book on tape (Kafka on the Shore) because concentrating on anything but the road in front of me was too much for me. The snow squalled and blew; pumping gas in it was a treat. It then slightly let up until I crossed into Colorado. And the snow really started to fly. No plows had been out yet, so it was just a one-lane road and white knuckles the whole way. By the time I got to Denver, there was about 8 unplowed inches on the road, but it finally stopped snowing.
It was time for a break. Gunther and I stopped to meet Jayne (my resident Colorado friend) and tour her condo in Denver. It was a cute place, except the toliet was clogged from some male houseguest the night before. And I hadn't pee'ed in about 6 hours and 3 coffees ago. So I attempted to plunge her toilet (good friend, eh?) but it didn't work. So I just pee'ed on top of the mess and shut the lid. Swell. Let's go to lunch, Jayne.
Jayne brought me to a cute brunch place nearby called Snooze or something like that. I left Gunther in the car since I was afraid he might chew up Jayne's condo. It was good comfort, Colorado food and of course, I had more coffee to amp me up for the rest of my drive up I-70 to Vail. In good weather, the drive should take an hour and a half. But this was not good weather. Reports said Vail and most of Summit County got a foot of powder in the last 12 hours, which is great for skiing, but bad for driving. But I took it slow though and made it Vail in a little over two hours.
I got a little lost finding Colleen's (and now my) condo because none of the roads are marked, but thankfully Colleen talked me in on the cell. Thank god there's reception up here! For those of you who don't know, I had never met Colleen. She is a friend of Jayne's who opened up her condo to me and the hound for the time. She's getting paid well, but still I had to wonder what was wrong with this girl. Good news: so far nothing! She seems laid back and cool although she's a ridiculous health food/organic/vitamin/tea freak. But I guess that's good. Maybe my big, cheese-loving thighs could learn something from her.
Colleen has a dog too, named Oso. Oso gave a few good growls and snaps at Gunther, so the two are being separated for now. I think that'll pass though. Colleen helped me haul in all my stuff, showed me the bus map and schedule and made me some hot tea (I got to choose between about 30 different kinds)! My room is nice enough, pretty plain which is good since the crate Gunther was supposed to stay in (Colleen had one) isn't big enough for him to turn around in. So I think I'm just going to lock him in the bedroom when I leave and hope for the best. If he opts to chew anything, it will only be my things anyway. At least I'd like to think he won't chew the dresser, the floor lamp or the bed, which is about all that's in here.
So that is the summary of day two's drive. It took a little longer than expected, but I'm here safe and sound in Vail and relaxing on a pretty comfy bed. I'm definitely going to bed early tonight to prepare for some first tracks at Vail's Blue Sky Basin. It was closed today for avalanch dynamiting, which means all that fresh powder will be waiting for me tomorrow morning!
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Vonnegut vs. Betteridge
It's about 50 degrees in Kearney, Nebraska right now, but the good news is my trusty Weather Channel tells me that it's snowing like mad in the Rockies. So, as long as the snow doesn't pile up too much to close the pass, I will be in Vail (hopefully with plentiful feet of new powder) by tomorrow afternoon.
I drove about 650 miles today which equaled just about 10 arduous hours on on the road. It didn't get to be tiresome until about the last hour or two though namely, because I spent a good six-hour chunk of my drive listening to an audiobook which Amie and Wally so lovingly loaded up on an iPod for me. I'll admit, this was my first full audiobook experience. I was skeptical of my own ADD tendencies in the car, but I'm proud to say I prevailed. Kurt Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions" was a good length to concentrate. I can't imagine being able to make it through 52 hours of War and Peace or anything like that. But this was good: the reader had an engaging voice, Gunther didn't distract me with too many bad breath burps and the characters were odd, which translates to interesting.
So now I'm cozily tucked into my Motel 6 room in Nebraska, which was $39.99 very well spent. It's clean, charges nothing extra for the dog and even offers free Internet. I can't figure out how when you stay at the W in Manhattan for $380 a night or the Mondrian in LA, you have to pay about $15 per day for Internet, but it's free here. And I think they give me a continental breakfast tomorrow morning too. Ahh, I'll never get tired of a good bargain!
I drove about 650 miles today which equaled just about 10 arduous hours on on the road. It didn't get to be tiresome until about the last hour or two though namely, because I spent a good six-hour chunk of my drive listening to an audiobook which Amie and Wally so lovingly loaded up on an iPod for me. I'll admit, this was my first full audiobook experience. I was skeptical of my own ADD tendencies in the car, but I'm proud to say I prevailed. Kurt Vonnegut's "Breakfast of Champions" was a good length to concentrate. I can't imagine being able to make it through 52 hours of War and Peace or anything like that. But this was good: the reader had an engaging voice, Gunther didn't distract me with too many bad breath burps and the characters were odd, which translates to interesting.
So now I'm cozily tucked into my Motel 6 room in Nebraska, which was $39.99 very well spent. It's clean, charges nothing extra for the dog and even offers free Internet. I can't figure out how when you stay at the W in Manhattan for $380 a night or the Mondrian in LA, you have to pay about $15 per day for Internet, but it's free here. And I think they give me a continental breakfast tomorrow morning too. Ahh, I'll never get tired of a good bargain!
Sunday, December 7, 2008
Ski Lexicon Lesson #2
If you ask any seasoned skier what the most important piece of ski equipment is, most will say your ski boots. But ski boots are definitely not the most sexy piece of equipment. Never will someone say, "Wow, those boots make your butt look great!" or even, "I can tell those boots are the new '08 Fancy Pants brand, nice!" You will definitely get more attention from a $10 new ski hat than you will from a $600 new pair of ski boots. But although they may not make you feel hot, today I will tell you why they are the unsung hero of ski equipment.
Until today, my ski boots were about 12 years old. My Dad bought them for me in college and although there was nothing particularly wrong with them, I had a feeling that it was time to invest in new boots. I had heard things about "power transfer" and custom fit, so today I made the pricey and strangely lackluster decision to upgrade my most practical and boring piece of over-loved equipment. Now I will admit, this was a tough decision for me. Because there is just something inherently difficult about dropping good money on new equipment when, as far as you can tell, your old boots work just fine. Plus there is the emotional attachment dorky skiers like me have with their equipment. You remember where you bought them (Mission Ski & Sport in East Lansing), when you first lost your big toenails breaking them in fresh powder (Steamboat, CO) and of course, the many apres ski drinks you imbibed wearing these beloved pieces of plastic (too many places to list). But, I did know that new boots were said to be warmer, more comfortable and were created to make the most out of power transfer with shaped skis. That brings me to my first definition of today:
Shaped Skis (aka Parabolic Skis): Up until about ten years ago, skis were pretty much a straight design on the length of ski, with the obvious ski-like tip. But in the past ten years or so, the design of ski has changed immensely (not kidding). They are now significantly wider at the front end (called the shovel), most narrow near the boot, and flair out again in the back.
Ok, but back to boots. So after deciding it was time to contemplate purchasing new boots to match my newer shaped skis, I made an appointment at Viking Ski and Sports here in the city. This is known as a fabulous place to buy boots as they spend a lot of time with you. Again, boot fitliness is next to godliness. There's nothing worse than a boot that pinches, cramps your calves, crams your toes or lets your heels lift off the ground. Ski boots have never been comfortable because of their rigid plastic and tight fit, but there is a huge difference between a boot that you can tolerate for an hour of skiing and one you can crank in for eight hours and still wear it to the bar after. Obviously, the latter is what we're aiming for here.
Now, walking in to Viking Ski on a Sunday afternoon before ski season undoubtedly restored my faith in the economy. Because there was damn near a line out the door. Now I don't know if this is truly saying much about the economy in Chicago, but it was clear to me that there sure were a lot of people who were much worse skiers than myself, willing to drop 3K-5K on outfitting their family of four with new ski equipment. Yikes. Thankfully I am just funding a family of one.
The guy I really wanted to fit me was named Drew, but he was booked up with other customers. Drew is known as one of the best boot fitters in the Midwest (yes, there is such a cache) and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes. But instead of Drew, I got stuck with his co-worker Tom. Now, buying boots at this place is similar to buying running shoes at Fleet Feet in Chicago. You are not allowed to choose a shoe on color and none of the shoes you try on have prices that are easy to spot. Same story with Viking. The idea is that they want to find the best fit, regardless of color or price. Great, bet I'm going to end up in the neon green and hot pink boots that are $1200.
But, after Tom asked me about my ski level and I got some nicely-timed gasps from everyone in the store when I said I was about to leave on a three-week ski trip, he brought out a couple boots for me to try on. Neither felt as good as my old boots. So he brought out two more. And then about six more. I kept comparing them to my existing boots and just wasn't convinced it was worth the cash. And then I tried on every single advanced women's ski boot in the entire store until I finally found a boot that felt good. It was a Tecnica, nice enough looking and thankfully was not the most expensive boot in the store (I was finally brave enough to inquire about price).
Then, Tom started telling me about the heat fit technology that comes with the boot. Not only will they outfit me with heel inserts and all sorts of other custom adjustments, but they will actually heat up the lining and then mold it to your foot. Now this, was genuius! If Tom would've told me about this technology at the beginning of his sales pitch, I would have been sold much sooner! My Dad had a pair of Hanson boots he kept for over 30 years because of a technology similar to this. He swore it was the best purchase he had ever made. Suddenly, I was feeling much better about my decision to buy a new pair of boots after a measley 12 years because I was getting custom molding!
In order to achieve custom fit, they heat up the linings, suit you up in these special socks and then have you basically flex forward in your boots for 15-20 minutes. Since the flex move was the beginning of a squat move, I took the liberty to knock out about 500 squats instead. I think the other shoppers thought I was a bit strange, especially when I started noticably sweating, but I figured it was a good use of time, and a fabulous way to getting the boot insert just how I wanted it.
Then it came time to bring in my skis so they could fit my bindings to the new boots. I thought they could do this on the spot, but no, they need three days. And of course, there is a charge for this. When I heard about the amount of the charge, I had some slight consumer dissonance. In fact, I almost walked out of the store and said forget it. I couldn't believe how here I was, spending $550 on boots and then they were going to charge me $40 to move the bindings on centimeter! I explained the idiocy of this charge to the manager and told him that if he'd like my business again, he wouldn't charge me for something it takes an 18-year-old two minutes to do (no exaggeration here, either). So thankfully, they took off the service charge and I was able to actually complete the transaction, pay for my new boots, and walk out of the store hoping I made a good purchase. I will pick up my new boots and old skis on Thursday evening, one day before I hit the road. Perfect timing. Now all I can do is pray for snow!
Until today, my ski boots were about 12 years old. My Dad bought them for me in college and although there was nothing particularly wrong with them, I had a feeling that it was time to invest in new boots. I had heard things about "power transfer" and custom fit, so today I made the pricey and strangely lackluster decision to upgrade my most practical and boring piece of over-loved equipment. Now I will admit, this was a tough decision for me. Because there is just something inherently difficult about dropping good money on new equipment when, as far as you can tell, your old boots work just fine. Plus there is the emotional attachment dorky skiers like me have with their equipment. You remember where you bought them (Mission Ski & Sport in East Lansing), when you first lost your big toenails breaking them in fresh powder (Steamboat, CO) and of course, the many apres ski drinks you imbibed wearing these beloved pieces of plastic (too many places to list). But, I did know that new boots were said to be warmer, more comfortable and were created to make the most out of power transfer with shaped skis. That brings me to my first definition of today:
Shaped Skis (aka Parabolic Skis): Up until about ten years ago, skis were pretty much a straight design on the length of ski, with the obvious ski-like tip. But in the past ten years or so, the design of ski has changed immensely (not kidding). They are now significantly wider at the front end (called the shovel), most narrow near the boot, and flair out again in the back.
Ok, but back to boots. So after deciding it was time to contemplate purchasing new boots to match my newer shaped skis, I made an appointment at Viking Ski and Sports here in the city. This is known as a fabulous place to buy boots as they spend a lot of time with you. Again, boot fitliness is next to godliness. There's nothing worse than a boot that pinches, cramps your calves, crams your toes or lets your heels lift off the ground. Ski boots have never been comfortable because of their rigid plastic and tight fit, but there is a huge difference between a boot that you can tolerate for an hour of skiing and one you can crank in for eight hours and still wear it to the bar after. Obviously, the latter is what we're aiming for here.
Now, walking in to Viking Ski on a Sunday afternoon before ski season undoubtedly restored my faith in the economy. Because there was damn near a line out the door. Now I don't know if this is truly saying much about the economy in Chicago, but it was clear to me that there sure were a lot of people who were much worse skiers than myself, willing to drop 3K-5K on outfitting their family of four with new ski equipment. Yikes. Thankfully I am just funding a family of one.
The guy I really wanted to fit me was named Drew, but he was booked up with other customers. Drew is known as one of the best boot fitters in the Midwest (yes, there is such a cache) and it doesn't hurt that he's easy on the eyes. But instead of Drew, I got stuck with his co-worker Tom. Now, buying boots at this place is similar to buying running shoes at Fleet Feet in Chicago. You are not allowed to choose a shoe on color and none of the shoes you try on have prices that are easy to spot. Same story with Viking. The idea is that they want to find the best fit, regardless of color or price. Great, bet I'm going to end up in the neon green and hot pink boots that are $1200.
But, after Tom asked me about my ski level and I got some nicely-timed gasps from everyone in the store when I said I was about to leave on a three-week ski trip, he brought out a couple boots for me to try on. Neither felt as good as my old boots. So he brought out two more. And then about six more. I kept comparing them to my existing boots and just wasn't convinced it was worth the cash. And then I tried on every single advanced women's ski boot in the entire store until I finally found a boot that felt good. It was a Tecnica, nice enough looking and thankfully was not the most expensive boot in the store (I was finally brave enough to inquire about price).
Then, Tom started telling me about the heat fit technology that comes with the boot. Not only will they outfit me with heel inserts and all sorts of other custom adjustments, but they will actually heat up the lining and then mold it to your foot. Now this, was genuius! If Tom would've told me about this technology at the beginning of his sales pitch, I would have been sold much sooner! My Dad had a pair of Hanson boots he kept for over 30 years because of a technology similar to this. He swore it was the best purchase he had ever made. Suddenly, I was feeling much better about my decision to buy a new pair of boots after a measley 12 years because I was getting custom molding!
In order to achieve custom fit, they heat up the linings, suit you up in these special socks and then have you basically flex forward in your boots for 15-20 minutes. Since the flex move was the beginning of a squat move, I took the liberty to knock out about 500 squats instead. I think the other shoppers thought I was a bit strange, especially when I started noticably sweating, but I figured it was a good use of time, and a fabulous way to getting the boot insert just how I wanted it.
Then it came time to bring in my skis so they could fit my bindings to the new boots. I thought they could do this on the spot, but no, they need three days. And of course, there is a charge for this. When I heard about the amount of the charge, I had some slight consumer dissonance. In fact, I almost walked out of the store and said forget it. I couldn't believe how here I was, spending $550 on boots and then they were going to charge me $40 to move the bindings on centimeter! I explained the idiocy of this charge to the manager and told him that if he'd like my business again, he wouldn't charge me for something it takes an 18-year-old two minutes to do (no exaggeration here, either). So thankfully, they took off the service charge and I was able to actually complete the transaction, pay for my new boots, and walk out of the store hoping I made a good purchase. I will pick up my new boots and old skis on Thursday evening, one day before I hit the road. Perfect timing. Now all I can do is pray for snow!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
