…Jim and I were feasting our eyes on this:

The sun rising over the summit, the snow blowing off the top.  I can’t think of many things more beautiful than this.

The last time I skied was on our honeymoon, 13 years ago, so I did wonder if skiing really is “like riding a bike”.  And as we faced the mountain whose summit is over 13,000 feet above sea level, my knees shook.  

The pictures in this post are of Arapahoe Basin–a non-tourist-y spot with no resorts or commercial joints.  It’s just raw skiing.  Before even getting on the chair lift, I couldn’t help but look around at the other skiers with their high-end gear.  Yeah, they knew what they were doing.  I couldn’t have blended in if I tried…my rented skis with “Heidi” written in black marker on the top, snow pants that are, well, less than stylish (think michelin man), and no goggles (everybody wears goggles these days–wasn’t the case 13 years ago)…these things all betrayed my amateur status.

I felt better, though, after seeing this guy.  Imagine skiing up the mountain instead of down:

We opted to take the chair lift up:

Next is a shot of the area where both Jim and I totally biffed.  I tumbled so hard that not only did my ski fall off, but my boot came apart.  Three things going against us here:

1. it was steep

2. there was powder (great for experienced skiers, torture for the rest of us)

3. we fell almost directly under the chair lift (lesson in humility?)

 

Somehow, we made it down and had the nerve to try it again.  Though you can’t really tell from this picture, I am on the edge of a downhill here that gave me butterflies when I looked down:

And here is Jim on the edge of a back bowl that we skied down.  Granted, it was marked as a blue run, but hey, it was a bowl and we made it down in one piece.  And we were skiing with the big dogs (or rather, watching them pass us on the double-black runs next door).

Here’s a look at what lay ahead of us…not just steep, powdery terrain, but trees…

We had such fun setting tough goals and accomplishing them together.  Here we are on top of the world haha:

Then it was time to come home.  And we landed hard, so to speak.  A day after arriving home to our little guys, Jeremy began barfing.  Like any mom would do, I cleaned, scrubbed and sanitized everyone and everything for the next couple days.  But alas, it was in vain.  Two days later, Derek, Peter and I took our turn.  Then finally, Jim and Jake had a mild case of it.

There is a bit of irony to this.  And a huge reason to be thankful.

Maybe you remember three years ago about this time when Jim and I attempted a ski snowshoe trip to Colorado.  (snowshoe because I was pregnant with Bubbie)  Long story short, the trip was postponed a week due to barfing children the day before we were to take off.  Then our first full day out there we received a call from my dad saying that my mom came down with the same bug and was in pretty bad shape (which she was).  We made the decision to come home that night…it was the vacation that never was.

So this year, we enjoyed 4 days of vacation.  Everything went so smoothly.  If we had left just a week later, it would have been a sad repeat of our last attempt to get away.  How could I ever complain about the family getting sick now?  God doesn’t promise a life without problems or trials.  But I choose to thank Him for the blessings that He does give, like a few days alone with my husband.