We've just spent a week skiing in Colorado, hence the relative silence, blog-wise. When I say "skiing" I mean lying around and generally wasting money if I'm honest. It's 9,600 feet at the base here (that's 2926 metres) and that's obviously before you even venture up on a chair lift. Most of the time I feel a little green around the gills, although I've never succumbed to full blown Altitude Sickness as two of my kids have. Actually, instead of me telling you what that entails, you can read about it here, along with several other catastrophes that all happened on the same ski trip.
Anyway, we came here last Saturday, I skiied on Sunday. Monday was spent trying to get the Queenager back to college in DC after her 6pm flight was conveniently cancelled at noon. (We eventually got her a flight to Baltimore and then a 1.30am car for the hour's drive back to DC, but it took a long time to organise.) Tuesday I woke up with a really bad head cold, so no activity for me. Wednesday was spent waiting in for the plumber, who took all of 15 minutes to mend the dodgy toilet. Thursday I went out with the Ball & Chain, skiied one long run and started feeling decidedly unwell. Took another chair lift up, and when I got off I couldnt decide whether I was going to hurl or faint.
Not wanting to cause a fuss, or be taken down on a giant sled/sledge (which the Little Guy assures me is enough to make anyone hurl since you're going downhill at great speed, flat on your back, and backwards. Ugh), I skiied back to the house. That was the longest ski of my life, stopping every hundred yards or so to catch my breath and surpress the vom-urge. Bloody altitude!
Yesterday I would have gone out but everyone else was too tired and wanted a day off. I'm not skiing on my own. This morning (our last day) we got all dressed up - and for those who don't ski, this is no mean feat - and out the door. The Little Guy had been saying he didn't feel well, and the B&C kept muttering about "fresh air" etc. We got almost to the chair lift and the LG stopped, put his head down and started crying. Obviously not feeling at all well, and certainly not up for skiing.
So we're back in the house, with him lying on the sofa. I'm not sure if I'll get out this afternoon as it'll depend on him feeling better. I can't leave him here obviously, and if the B&C offers to stay and look after him, that would mean me skiing on my own. Not gonna happen. Of course the Man-Child will be out on his snow-board but there's no way I could a) keep up with him, or b) jump over the cliffs that he does. Some of them you have to tip-toe right up to the edge to see over. Shiver.
So, I have paid for a season pass, which is usually a huge bargain given that we're up here for three weeks between Xmas and Feb. This year, - not so much. I have skiied four half days so far.
I should've just stood on the corner and handed out dollar bills really.