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!

WTF - Get Real!

What the Friday wonders why products can't be honest with us:

Why didn't the sanitary napkin say, "Sticky side down?"  I mean, really, BE SPECIFIC!!

Why can't my treadmill count in glasses of wine, what I can fill up with the night after my workout.
"6 glasses of wine" or 900 calories - which one makes more sense.

Rather than the calorie count on the Krispy Kreme doughnut box, it should show number of doughnuts based on shrinkage of pant size.  6 doughnuts = sausage casings.

100 Calorie packs - they should just say, "Why did you even buy us?"  when you eat the entire box, one 100 calorie pack at a time.

Alcohol Warning - sure it says "could cause dizziness, loss of memory, hot flashes," why did it not say, "Could cause possible pregnancy."  Had I known.

Why wasn't there a warning on Facebook, "Could become addictive, causing you to stalk your ex lovers, fight with political opponents, and realize you are not the perfect Mom."

And on the marriage certificate - "May cause memory lapses, mood swings, periods of confusion and pregnancy."


Skiing down a ski slope, there's a very large pine tree in the middle, with a CAUTION sign attached to it.  Really?  I guess some poor dude thought he could ski through a tree!

Real warning on Spandex pants - "Will not make your but look small, but can possibly smooth out the cottage cheese."

On the bra - "Do not use as a sling shot after a long day."

And finally on Children:

"Could cause periods of hallucinations, repressed anger, hot flashes, AND memory loss."

But who heeds warnings anyway?

Kids and Listening - WHAT?

Today we switched things up with a trip to Canyons Mountain Resort - 10 minutes away but a totally different experience.  One that included gondolas (you should have seen their faces), Orange Bubbles, and Half Pipes.

Do your children have the selective hearing disease?  The one where I tell them,

"Dad and I are skiing over off of Dreamcatcher Lift, meet us there in one hour for lunch."

1 hour later, someone is texting me, "Where are you?"

Dreamcatcher Lift.

why

Because we wanted to ski those blacks.

But what about lunch.

(heavy sigh) Come over to Dreamcatcher and we'll stop for lunch.

Sometimes it is nice to not really exist - to just relax while the rest of the family dukes it out for who was right, which way to go, why didn't we do that.  Other times it would be nice for someone to listen to me.

"We need to take Sidewinder Trail down to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are busy arguing about Dreamcater, and Cloud 99 and every way but the one I suggested.  Of course, I was the only one to study the map realizing that there is no way over the valley except for the Short Cut lift.  I say, "Well we have to get to the Short Cut Lift to get down to the base."

They are moving into hiking to the top of another peak to pickup a run to make it to base when my youngest, maybe his brain is not so fermented on sugar as the other says, "Wait a minute, we can't get back down unless we take the Short Cut Lift here."

My jaw drops as they all say, "Wow, you're right Max.  Good job, we should take Sidewinder over to the Short Cut Lift to make it to the base of the mountain."

"Let it go, " I tell myself

It is even evident in Apres Ski, it seems that most men just don't really hear what women are saying at times, and if they did, they would thank us for it.

I watch the bartender put a cup on a base and it fills from the bottom with beer, not from a tap at the top.

"Wow, that's cool, how does it work?"

She smiled, "It has a hole in the bottom, the beer comes through there, then there is a magnet that covers it.  Controls the pour for us, we recycle the cups AND the magnets."

I look at the bottom of the cup and my finger travels to the bottom, where the magnet it, she says, "I wouldn't push that unless you want to wear your beer."

My hubby comes in and looks at his beer, "That's wierd what's this on the bottom."

Me, "It's a magnet because they fill the beer from the bottom up, don't push on it."

Does he listen to me.  As I turn, he's holding the cup up above his head, looking closely at the magnet.  I watch his finger travel slowly to the magnet at the bottom, I try to say something, but I've lost my voice (I cannot tell you why)

I watch my husband do it and douse himself with beer.  I watch other people come in and the girls were smart enough to not push on the magnet, but everyone that wore beer surprisingly was male??

Funny, that we keep trying to tell them what is smart for them, thinking that maybe one day - they will actually listen.

Nah, who's got time for that anyway.

Avalanche Charges, Bowls and Beer - Oh My!

Everyone finally woke up this morning with smiles.  I checked each child's underwear as they came out , scratching their butts for breakfast.  All smiles, and no sharting in the house.  Perhaps this will not be such a shitty day?

That is was snowing as soon as we got there - a very good sign.  You could hear the avalanche controls in the back country as we rode the lift to the top.  Today, I decided I was going to take it easy, considering the two days before were spent in some really shitty jobs.  I would be careful and not over tax what I was doing.

Hello black diamond.

So much for taking it easy, with fresh powder on the ground, I went with the rest of humanity to the hard stuff at the summit.  The boys were with me, arguing about who would get down the hill first, who would get off the list first, who would get back on the lift first.

How do I spend a day skiing by myself?

My rule of thumb is that all skiing happens from 9am until 12-1230pm.  I hit it hard from 9am until 1230p when we get our first break.  For them it is lunch, for me it is a beer.

We finish lunch then ski again until 2pm before we take our second break, for them a snack, for me it is a beer.

This time I went down McConskey bowl about 130P which changed my schedule.

After crawling out of the bottom, I realized that I was bypassing the rest of the ski schedule and going directly to the bar, and since I was alone, no one else would know the difference.  I went down to the resort and put my feet up outside, drinking a beer.


The kids, coming down after their time on the slopes were like sharks smelling blood in the water.  Mom's had a beer and that means she's a little more open to SHOPPING!

They hit the stores in the lodge as I finished my beer, coming back and pulling me into 3 different directions for "A great helmet," "An awesome hoodie," and "Some liners."  Kids have that innate sense , knowing exactly when their parents are primed enough to open the wallet.

When it goes from, "Honey, you really do not need another sweatshirt."  To...
"Wow, it's moisture wicking, and fits you perfectly and look at that sad face you are giving me," to...

SOLD!

So one helmet, one T-shirt and one hoodie later we head back to the condo, talking about charges, not just avalanche control but of the credit card ones as well.  The biggest part of our discussion was figuring out how to present the new purchases to DADDY!!

Perhaps I will live to see another day.

Another Shitty Day in Paradise

I will not get on my soap box about sickness.  If you are sick, and you know what you have is contagious - why the hell, would you go out and be around the human population?  For God's sake, stay home until you are well and people will not HATE you!


That being said, we have had a few shitty days in paradise.

Out first day on the snow was blizzard type conditions, snow sideways, and many lifts closed due to wind.  So what do we do - dress up in as many layers as possible and GO OUT anyway!

We make it until about 3pm when one of the kids looks at me and says (very seriously) "I must get to a lodge immediately."

Well, what the hell does that mean?  My mother's intuition says, "He means it, get him there immediately."

We take the lift up and made our way to the lodge, I'm thinking, "It can't be that bad."

Well, I was wrong.

My poor child, racing for the bathroom runs in, past this poor dude, holding the mop, obviously cleaning up after someone else, and proceeds to empty everything in his stomach all over the bathroom.  A trail of green colored vomit that runs across both sinks, along the floor, and all over the toilet he finally made it to.

I look at the poor kid with a mop.

His face is white.  It looks like, "what the hell, you gotta be shitting me?"  I almost say, "oh the shit is ready to hit now."

The poor child, moves from covering the sinks to covering the toilets.  As I wonder how could something affect so much so quickly?  Feeling bad, I tip the white faced guy holding a mop 20 bucks, the poor guy deserves it for having to do such a shitty job!

What do we do?  He's sitting at the Summit of the mountain hugging a trash can.

The poor child ends up in the toboggan behind ski patrol snowmobile as his only way off the mountain.

Me?  I ski down grab the car and run over to pick him up.  Side note:  Guy who comes up and says to me, "Obviously you didn't read the sigh, get you car out of this area."

Of course, full Mom kicks in.  I turn to him,  "Listen, had you stopped and asked me the situation, I could have said it was an emergency and I was waiting for kid off the snowmobile.  But no, you assumed I was here for no reason and look like the asshole you are for saying that too me.  Oh, and since I am with my vehicle, had an emergency vehicle come up to pick my nephew up, well, I could have gotten out of the way."

Lesson learned - Don't mess with a Mom, especially when she knows she's got a shitty job ahead of her.

Of course I look it up - symptoms:  extreme vomiting, fever, extreme flatulence - wait a minute, that's why there was that nasty smell in the car on the trip?

The poor child spends the night sitting on the toilet while hugging a trash can.

Next day - another one wakes up with a "Mom, I think I just sharted my pants...."

A.  How does he know the word Sharted?
B.  Why do I have a stomach ache?
C.  Oh shit, how could a child project vomit that far?

Sometimes being a Mom can be a really shitty job......

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.

Sometimes Your Butt Must Say What's On Its Mind

We stepped out of the condo, walking down to the lift, ready for a day on the snow.  My butt however, had better ideas.

"Do you realize it is snowing?  And if it is snowing, then it is below freezing.  Which means I am not happy.  What?  You are still getting on the lift, didn't I explain that it is cold here, meaning it is freezing up there?"

I don't listen to it, because who listens to their butt anyway, and ride the lift up to the top of the mountain.  The kids are excited and as I ski a few runs keeping up with them, my butt starts again, "Aren't you freezing?"

I look around, there's no one there, so I can talk to my butt, "Yes, I am freezing.  But they are having a great time so I am just going to suck it up."

The wind blows again, stopping me in my skis, my butt sighs, "I give up, you're on your own.  I hope we survive this."

I stop by the trees and say out into the blowing snow and wind, "Well maybe I'm attempting to freeze my butt off, OK?"

My butt, is now having a conversation with my hands, "You tell her."

My hands, cough a little bit then whisper, "Hey.  Have you noticed that the tips of your fingers are starting to sting a little bit?"

I'm skiing down my favorite run and choose to ignore both of them.  At the bottom as I work over to the lift they start again.

"I hate to be a pain in the butt, but I don't have feeling in my first and ring finger."

"My goodness you sat again in a seat full of snow."

"Are we done yet?"

I smile at the family, hunkering down for each lift ride, telling myself that I can do it and I will because:
a.  I paid a lot of money for these lift tickets, and WILL get my money's worth.
b.  Everyone else seems fine, I'm the only one suffering.
c.  Sometimes it is not about me.

Finally after another hour to two, both my hands, my butt and my feet have decided to stop talking to me.

One of the kids leans over in the lifts, "I'm freezing, can we go down to the condo and add another layer?"

Everyone else in the groups immediately adds, "Yeah, I need my long underwear.  Why didn't I put that fleece on.  I'm afraid to move my toes."

I look at all of them thinking, "I guess if I was feeling that way everyone else was, I guess I should ahve said something sooner.

We ski down to the condo, my butt, fingers and feet saying, "I told you so."