Breckenridge - Random Thoughts

We wake up early Tuesday morning and load up the car, being as quiet as possible, in hopes of escaping undetected by our 2 year old boys. I consider Operation Adult Vacation: Stealth Exit a success and then realize that I have forgotten some of my drugs. Back in the house I go, just in time to see sleepy little boys headed down the stairs. I am glad to see them, to say goodbye, to hug them and smell their hair. I miss them already and we have not really even left. I go out to the car and send Todd in to say goodbye to the boys – he is as happy as I am to have seen them before we leave. It is odd that we went to such great lengths to be quiet and not wake them, and yet are thrilled to see them awake. Parenting is odd like that.

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Breckenridge is a beautiful little ski town tucked into the mountains. It still looks like Christmas there, covered in snow and twinkle lights. People wander in and out of stores looking for the perfect souvenir or gift for someone back home. It appears to take up the largest chunk of time in the evenings next to eating.

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I insisted on lessons the first day out on the slopes. I had not been skiing in seven years and really did not want to add “broken bone” to the list of things wrong with me lately. While I remembered how to ski, at least the very fundamentals, I lacked confidence. And although we were victims of one of the most amazingly annoying instructors I can imagine, it was a success. I started out fearful of the blue runs, and by the time we departed Colorado 3 days later, I was sad that I wouldn’t get to ski the blacks and double blacks.

We spent the first day skiing a few green runs in the morning and by afternoon were only on the blue runs. On day two we were on our own and didn’t go near a green unless we had to, spending our time on the blues and even hit a blue/black. By day three, blue runs were making me yawn and yearn for something more fun. I imagine if it had not been so freaking crowded on Friday morning, we would have spent our last morning on the blacks. Instead, we tackled a few more blue/blacks and headed out. Todd mixed in some moguls and a few black runs, but we just didn’t have time to do much beyond that. I have always hated the mogul and avoided any area even pretending to be one of those evil hilly things. I wish I had tried them.

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We actually discussed buying a condo there sometime in the future, and then we found out how expensive they are. We will never speak of it again.

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I had the most amazing Mahi Mahi at Bubba Gump Shrimp. It was cooked in a bourbon sauce and it just melted in my mouth.

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The flights both there and back were uneventful, which is really the only way to fly. We had exit row seats both ways, and we were only delayed a bit on the way home.

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We played “best / worst” every evening while on vacation, and it was almost comical trying to come up with the worst thing of the day. There really was no worst. One day it had been the crappy moving conveyor thing under one of the chair lifts. It was so slow that Todd threatened to time it with a calendar. Another day the daily low centered around the ridiculous stories told by our ski instructor, all of which consisted of him dating some hottie (former Miss-Georgia, former Miss-South Carolina, former aerobics instructor) or two-to-three hotties at a time (and we hung out in Mexico in a hammock made for three). The stories were hideous and hilarious at the same time. The weather was perfect everyday. I was able to ski all day long without too much trouble. We had amazing food. We didn’t miss drinking at all. We did miss all of the kids, but enjoyed every single minute without them.

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We didn’t take a camera, but you can see some pictures we had taken there, which are horrible…but we bought one anyway. No, I don’t know why my coat looks so puffy.