Blue Skies, Black Diamonds and Son of a Boooyah

Happy birthday to my youngest son, Max.  Interesting that he was born on 04-04-04 and today with his tenth birthday marks 04-04-14.  Maybe there is some luck in there somewhere.

We are back at Canyons, my head full of getting the most out of our day.  I take my sweet husband down the black diamonds, through the moguls, with a few steep groomed trails to boot.

Max and the boys are gone to the terrain parks and other areas.  How can you explain to a 10 year that, "No, you cannot go into the 'You can Die' places by yourself, someone has to ride with you, and newsflash - it is not your mother."

Jeff and I take all the different lifts with a little hint of Son of a Boohrye - a High West Distillery Whiskey sitting in a flash.

False courage?

Yes.

Bad idea?

Double Yes?

How easy do the Double Blacks look after a shot of the Booyrah?

Shit, we can do that, it looks like a run on Beech Mountain Resort.

There is one thing to dreaming of going down a double black, then there is doing it.

You start at the top thinking, "This looks like nothing from the lift.  What a piece of cake."

10 minutes later you're thinking, "What the hell was I thinking?"

After two falls later, you're thinking, "Oh shit, how much further do I have to go?"

Another 10 minutes later, "I've got to take a break.  Shit, is that a little kid shooting by me?"

Another 10 minutes, "If I  make it to the bottom, that's it for me today."

Five more minutes later, "Scotty, she can't take much more.  My quads are screaming."

Hitting the bottom, "Well shit, that wasn't so bad.  That ain't no black diamond."

So the next time you take a shot of whiskey and take the lift to the top, remember, everything's easier with a little whiskey in the system, until you are hot on the trail.

Oh, and the birthday boy?  He didn't have ANY whiskey and hit the biggest jump in the park only to land it in an epic wipeout.

Glad I bought him the new helmet for his birthday.

Glad I'm not taking a trip to the ER.

Glad he still is talking about it as the highlight of his day, because I'm still not recovered from the double black diamond.

Booyrah!

This Ain't No Black Diamond....

What a difference a day makes.  Yesterday we were with blizzard conditions and wind chills at close to zero today was bluebird skies and 6-8 inches of fresh snow!

Jeff had to work, one was down for the count on sickness, so it was the three of us hitting first trax on the ski slopes.  Funny, how getting to that fresh powder is a life long ambition of many, with the first lift rides resembling a Who Concert of who's getting off and beating all the other skiers to the fresh snow.  I totally understood as I was in full sweat from getting to the top of a run and DANGIT, someone beat me to it.

Of course, you wish for it and sometimes if pays you back.  The snow was fresh and deep and as I had my first yardsale (the process by which a skier loses every part of their equipment in an epic wipeout) I realized this was so different from my icy skiing of Beech Mountain.  After making it down my first run (out of breath) I realized that I needed a few adjustments to my technique - specifically finding the groomed runs.

I go all morning with the boys, non stop until around noon when I am ready for a break and possibly a beer.  Of course, murphy's law, my husband calls and joyfully says, "I'm here, let's RIDE!"

Dayum.

They take me up to the top of the lift.  We get off on what resembles Morodor - or the Cliffs of Doom.  The rest of the family is excited, I however am looking around thinking, "It's a beautiful view, but how do we get down?"

My hubby answers my question, "Do the Double Black Diamond Kelly, everyone says it is an easy Black Diamond."

(Did I mention that Jeff heard this in the bar before coming to meet me, did I also mention that he didnt' tell me this before he took me up the lift)

So, I love testing my limits, but my Quads already hate me at this point from skiing all day, and as I stand at the top of a ledge looking down thinking, "OK, this ain't no black diamond."

My problem at this point:

I have no way to go but down.
I have to go to the bathroom so I cannot bust it on this one.
Everyone has already gone, am I going to be shown up by a 9 year old?

Unfortunately, I am committed.

It takes me 30 minutes.  A few wipeouts, a few turns that I am not proud of (one ski, holy shit type of moves) and I make it to the bottom with a deep breath.

Oh, what?

The only way down is this second double black diamond called,  "You'll Never Survive This One Kelly."  Another 30 minutes later, I am crawling over to the lift where the rest of the family is standing there looking annoyed.

"Where were you," they say, looking amazingly rested because they've been waiting for me for 20 minutes.

"Surviving," I get out as I almost fall over into the snow.

"Well, what are we waiting for - let's get going....."

Ugh.