Who says we haven't progressed in recent years? I write this now on the keypad of my Android phone 10,000 ft in the air on a plane somewhere between Denver and Detroit... judging by the vast nothingness below, I'd guess Kansas or Iowa. A kid is happily yelling and kicking away at my seat, and I paid a ridiculous amount to check my bag in order to get all of the gifts I told people not to get me (I'm grateful regardless) back to Michigan.
Another year is coming to a close, another Christmas passed... though this year it didn't really feel like Christmas, it just felt like hectic family time. I guess it's a good thing that anytime I come home, it's like I never left. It's weird to think. That someday we'll likely all be married and will start staying home with our own families rather than go to the parents. I think my dad will lose his mind when that day comes, I'm not sure he knows how to function on his own at times. It's nice to get to go back though and spend time with everyone, get away for a bit. I know the minute I step outside of the airport in Michigan, I'll be missing the wonky Colorado weather... 60 deg in December, with feet of snow in the mountains!
However, I've also realized that Michigan finally feels kind of like home. I'm looking forward to getting to my apartment, walking through the door where my cat will be waiting excited to see me, sleeping in my own bed, and setting my own schedule. It's like I've grown up or something! I never thought that would happen. Christina and I have had conversations about when it is that we really become adults, partly because we were trying to avoid admitting that we might be. Is it when you get your own place? Start a full time job/career? Get married? Have a kid? Own a storage unit? We never came to any conclusion other than that we weren't there yet, but more and more it feels like I'm grownup, and that's not such a bad thing.
Its not going to stop me from doing stupid things like tying a satellite dish to the back of a truck and sledding in it though...
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Ski Day
Last day of my Christmas trip to Colorado, also Christmas Day. My dad, brother and I decided it was the perfect day to go skiing as there would be no one on the slopes, which was true. It turned out to be a gorgeous day - perfect weather, good runs, few people.
My dads knees have started getting bad as he gets older, so he tends to quit early on us when we ski now. But not before we accidently took him down a black diamond run after lunch. Woops. He gave up after that run, leaving Colin and I to ourselves. Colin suggested using the time to practice on harder slopes since we don't care if we look like idiots in front of each other. And then he suggested we try a small area of moguls to practice. He led us to an area that last year I accidently sent him and Dad down when they were misdirected (I said stay right. I didn't mean as far right as they stayed...). We got to the area, and found that it had no moguls this year. Colin pointed to the right and suggested we go on the moguls on the next run over. Awesome idea!
So we started down, and quickly realized we have no idea how to ski moguls and suck at life. But it was good practice regardless of us falling nearly every time we turned a mogul. We got to one especially steep part, and I chose to go first. I missed the turn and started rolling down the mountain, flopping around 50 ft before being able to stop myself. Colin was cracking up like none other, and I had snow down my pants. A little further down, Colin followed my example and yardsaled hardcore. His pole was left above him, and his ski triied skiing away without him, stopping about 20 yards away on the edge of the tree line, almost lost forever. He then did it again 5 minutes later, losing one pole above him and bending the other one. He was flailed out and couldn't get himself together enough to retrieve the lost pole, so I had to take off my skis and hike the 20 ft incline. During this tiime, two guys skiing past stopped and asked if we were ok, and after assuring them we were only having pole issues, they skiied off. We must have looked like a mess though because they stopped within visual and watched us for 10 minutes while we continued to look like we had no idea what we were doing.
We got down far enough that they moved on, and we found a cut through in the trees that we elected tp take in hopes it'd lead to a less mogul-y run. It didn't, the next one over was even worse. BUT we crossed that one and cut through the trees and finally found the traverse to make it back to the lift we wanted to get to. Turns out we went to the furthest run in the resort, which led to a small lift that at the time we weren't sure where it went (turns out it dropped you off just below the other lift and may have been faster at the point we were at). The traverse had a long flat spot, and we basically had to cross-country ski part of it. Colin got tired of this and chose to take off his skis to walk...and his leg went all the way through the powdery snow. He called out to me and said he didn't know if he could get out without help, and I, 20 yards ahead, told him there was no way I was going back to help him. After using his poles as picks to pull himself out, we finally made it back an hour after starting the run. Runs normally take us 10 minutes. My whole body hurt from the experience.
I am never listening to Colin again.
My dads knees have started getting bad as he gets older, so he tends to quit early on us when we ski now. But not before we accidently took him down a black diamond run after lunch. Woops. He gave up after that run, leaving Colin and I to ourselves. Colin suggested using the time to practice on harder slopes since we don't care if we look like idiots in front of each other. And then he suggested we try a small area of moguls to practice. He led us to an area that last year I accidently sent him and Dad down when they were misdirected (I said stay right. I didn't mean as far right as they stayed...). We got to the area, and found that it had no moguls this year. Colin pointed to the right and suggested we go on the moguls on the next run over. Awesome idea!
So we started down, and quickly realized we have no idea how to ski moguls and suck at life. But it was good practice regardless of us falling nearly every time we turned a mogul. We got to one especially steep part, and I chose to go first. I missed the turn and started rolling down the mountain, flopping around 50 ft before being able to stop myself. Colin was cracking up like none other, and I had snow down my pants. A little further down, Colin followed my example and yardsaled hardcore. His pole was left above him, and his ski triied skiing away without him, stopping about 20 yards away on the edge of the tree line, almost lost forever. He then did it again 5 minutes later, losing one pole above him and bending the other one. He was flailed out and couldn't get himself together enough to retrieve the lost pole, so I had to take off my skis and hike the 20 ft incline. During this tiime, two guys skiing past stopped and asked if we were ok, and after assuring them we were only having pole issues, they skiied off. We must have looked like a mess though because they stopped within visual and watched us for 10 minutes while we continued to look like we had no idea what we were doing.
We got down far enough that they moved on, and we found a cut through in the trees that we elected tp take in hopes it'd lead to a less mogul-y run. It didn't, the next one over was even worse. BUT we crossed that one and cut through the trees and finally found the traverse to make it back to the lift we wanted to get to. Turns out we went to the furthest run in the resort, which led to a small lift that at the time we weren't sure where it went (turns out it dropped you off just below the other lift and may have been faster at the point we were at). The traverse had a long flat spot, and we basically had to cross-country ski part of it. Colin got tired of this and chose to take off his skis to walk...and his leg went all the way through the powdery snow. He called out to me and said he didn't know if he could get out without help, and I, 20 yards ahead, told him there was no way I was going back to help him. After using his poles as picks to pull himself out, we finally made it back an hour after starting the run. Runs normally take us 10 minutes. My whole body hurt from the experience.
I am never listening to Colin again.
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