Bonjour Colorado

March Madness Runs Into April

KOTO Street Dance in Telluride: One of Many Mountain Celebrations to Mark the End-of-the-Season

Wow, what a month it has been. It’s been at least that long since I posted a story on this blog. So what have I been doing? Skiing, of course. Mostly teaching skiing actually, nearly every day up until our closing here in Telluride which took place this past Easter Sunday, April 4th. I’m just now beginning to feel alive again. I say almost since I’m still consuming above-average amounts of caffeine but I know more energetic days lie ahead.

I’m much better than I was earlier in the week when I logged endless hours on my couch, too tired to read but content to watch copious amounts of T.V. in between long stretches of sleep. (I think my cats registered more awake time than I these past days.)  And dare I take inventory of all my eating? I’ve been devouring the scalloped potatoes and chocolate left over from Easter, and by Tuesday afternoon I found myself whipping up a vanilla milkshake and sucking it down from the indented cushions of my couch faster than Oprah could say “We’ll be right back.” When I began to compulsively channel surf between Dancing with the Stars, CNN and Bravo, I worried that I might never feel normal again. But miraculously my cravings for sugar and fat diminished by Wednesday along with my desire to escape profoundly into the boob tube. Last night I even cracked a book, “Abundance: A Novel of Marie Antoinette,” that I can’t wait to get back to tonight. (I find it impossible to read during ski season when evenings mean either falling asleep by 9 or partying until 11.)

I don’t know how so many people pack it up as soon as the mountain closes. They head to Moab, Mexico and the Islands or embark upon adventures such as a rafting trip on the Salt River. These people must be largely motivated by the thrill of switching out ski boots for flip flops. I guess I’m just a softy. I need to recharge.

Anyone that works in the hospitality industry can tell you that March can be insane in the mountains. As a ski instructor, you have to be ON all the time throughout the sunniest and stormiest days of spring break (which this year lasted most of March right up until Easter). It doesn’t matter if your knees are killing you, your quads burn beyond belief or if you don’t have an ounce of gas left in your tank, it’s our job to spread rainbows and sunshine and to make sure that everyone has the best experience ever.

And what a great end-of-season it was here in T-ride. The snow fell generously and often, right up until the end, interspersed with glorious days of warmth and sun. I taught mostly private ski lessons to a terrific array of clients, some of whom promise to be future guests on Travel Fun. I delighted in teaching Josie, a sweetheart of a thirteen-year old, a first-timer that I worked into almost a complete parallel by the end of two days. Her parents, Kevin and Corinna, own Antlers & Anglers, an exclusive service that arranges hunting and fishing trips to alluring destinations around the world. I’m looking forward to having her dad on the program to talk about big game hunting and more. Perhaps an unusual sort of topic for my show, but certainly very interesting nonetheless. I had a blast with twin six-year olds, Max and Carrie, for a week and through this family, I met novelist Martha McPhee. (I also skied with her son Jasper.) Martha has a new book, “Dear Money,” coming out in June. This work showcases the financial world of New York where Martha lives, so it might be a hoot to have her on Travel Fun to talk about the ins and outs of the Big Apple’s high rolling landscape. I’m sure she can provide a few good restaurant recommendations as well. Martha is the daughter of the prolific nonfiction writer John McPhee and the sister of novelist Jenny McPhee. She’s married to poet Mark Svenvold who, along with Martha and the rest of the crew, enjoyed doing a bunch of nice turns in Telluride during one of our best weeks of March.  (In case you’re wondering, Martha and I talked more about skiing than writing.)

My friend Kate Betts, renowned fashion and style editor, was also vacationing in T-ride during this time. We managed to work in a Travel Fun interview together which I’ll soon post here as a podcast. Kate is still a contributing writer for TIME Magazine but we mostly chatted about her recent project, a book about Michelle Obama, entitled “Everyday Icon:  Michelle Obama and The Power of Style.” “It’s really about why style matters,” Kate says.

In the midst of all this activity, I was asked to participate in a photo shoot for SKI Magazine, an undertaking that occupied nearly two day’s of my time both on the snow and in Bootdoctors, the Telluride sport specialist that is the focal point of this piece. Bootdoctors has gained great recognition for fixing people’s alignments (and their skiing!) by adjusting their equipment—mainly ski boots—to compensate for their own physiological imperfections. I was selected certainly not for my skiing prowess or on-camera presence but as a prime example of a knock-kneed woman. I shared the shoot with Don Hannah, longtime Telluride resident, fellow KOTO DJ, all around nice guy and brother to Daryl. Don was chosen to represent your average bow-legged man. This was no glamour shoot, especially since I was so caught up with my work that I hadn’t even thought about having a pedicure for the shots (and Internet footage!), many of which focused on an extensive custom boot-fitting for my feet. To think that my gnarly ski instructor feet are to appear rough-hewn and unpolished in a national magazine by next ski season— quel horreur! Don and I were also documented skiing our worst knock-kneed/bow-legged form on Telluride’s fine slopes. Don nailed my sentiments exactly when he said, “I’ve been reading SKI Magazine since I was a kid and now that I finally get to appear in it, I come across looking like a dork.” Oh well, Lindsey Vonn I am not.

So now it’s time to organize my personal space and to pick up my writer’s life. I’m on my tenth load of laundry this week and am chipping away at my e-mails. Fortunately it will be a slow transition since I have a couple of trips planned to Vail and Aspen before the month is out. You can read about some of my post- season adventures from last year at Skiing and Spa-Going:  Part One in Vail, Colorado and at Aspen Highlights. I’m looking forward to free skiing and not having to instruct or look out for anyone’s well-being but my own. I bet I’ll miss the silly chairlift games and heartwarming connections though.

This is indeed a funny life, trading off between ski instructing and writing. But as much as it’s a juggling act, I can’t imagine giving it up. There’s nothing like balancing out the mental with the physical, especially when you live in the Rocky Mountains. I wonder what Marie Antoinette would think.

Note that April is full of end-of-the-season activities at Colorado’s top resorts. Aspen Mountain closes this Sunday, April 11 but will reopen the weekends of April 17-18 and 24-25. Beaver Creek closes this Sunday as well, however Vail’s spring fling kicks into high gear April 12 with their Spring Back to Vail.  Search the Internet for lots more great skiing and fun in Colorado through early May.  You’ll find some terrific bargains, too.  Be sure to pack your costumes and most colorful spring attire!

Skiing Bunnies, Mary Dawn and Michael, Hop on the Quad in T-ride on Easter Sunday

The Crowd Gathers at Gorronno's in Telluride for a Closing Day Concert by Drew Emmitt

Ski Instructors in Training: Precision Skiing 201

C.T. in Action

Precision Skiing 201. Wow, even that title is intimidating. This is the name of a PSIA (Professional Ski Instructors of America) Clinic I took this winter. The numbers 201 indicate that it’s part of the training for Level 2 Certification, a distinction of excellence largely achieved by being able to ski and teach perfect parallel turns on a variety of terrain. As for the precision skiing part, nobody is more precise about technique than the ski geeks at PSIA. And since I’m a member of PSIA, I try hard to be as geeky about skiing as the best of them. (It’s rare that a ski instructor has the luxury of mindlessly cruising down the mountain. Instead we’re plagued with contemplating every aspect of our skiing from angulation vs. inclination to whether we’re fore or aft; well, you get the idea.)

Sometimes I shake my head and I still can’t believe I’m a ski instructor. Whenever I sense fear in a student I like to share that it wasn’t until I became a ski instructor that I stopped having butterflies in my belly the first couple of runs of the day. The best way to conquer fear is to face it head on. So now here I was feeling like a kid in school—butterflies and all—in my first PSIA clinic of the season.

I admitted to C. T. (Chris Thomsen), a PSIA examiner, a Telluride ski instructor and our clinician, that I felt somewhat jittery (about what I’m not sure, perhaps the scrutiny of it all). His reassuring smile and warm, friendly approach helped to put me at ease. Already I was grateful ten times over that I was able to take this clinic in Telluride, my home mountain. (For all the others, I had to travel to other destinations within the Rockies.) C.T. took charge of our group of ten ski instructors much like we strive to do in our regular lessons.

After a couple of warm up runs, we launched into a few drills, just the kind of thing we might introduce to our students, depending on what they needed to work on. We began with shuffling through our parallel turns on a blue run. Not only did I feel goofy doing this (and I’m sure I looked just as silly), but it also proved to be a bit of a challenge, especially on the steep pitches. I soon learned that you could only properly do this maneuver when in perfect balance, the holy grail of good skiing.

I was counting on this exuberant burst of energy (as if doing a perfect turn isn’t difficult enough, imagine shuffling through many of them) to warm me up. This brutally cold and snowy day became even harder to endure with every frequent stop. Explanation, instruction and demonstration is typically a huge part of any lesson, particularly a program like today’s. Still, I reminded myself that I was a Professional Ski Instructor of America, part of the hearty core of American society that can endure harsh outdoor elements, all for the betterment of mankind, or at least to improve my skiing and to help others gain the skills that would make a difference in their own on-snow performance.

C.T., a wiry guy of slight build, exuded tremendous enthusiasm and boundless energy. I wondered why he wasn’t getting cold. I felt chilled to the bone and I’m padded with at least five times the amount of body fat as him. But then I admitted to myself that he was more of a professional than me, fully realizing that his task at hand was far more important than frozen toes. Careful to critique everyone’s skiing and demos as they passed, he possessed a remarkable skill for zeroing in on the component that needed to be corrected in order to make a difference in our skiing. Indeed he was blessed with the keen eye of an examiner.

“Tip before you turn,” he called out to me as I completed my own series of dynamic parallel demos. “In modern skiing, you tip your skis on edge and then input rotary,” he explained. “That will give your skis support rather than sliding down the hill.” I found myself thinking “tip and turn” the whole rest of the day.

Just like in a group lesson, C.T. was sure to give us attention both as individuals and as a group, and in turn we supported each other in a similar fashion. Everyone had the same goal: to work on our skiing and to learn how to impart this knowledge to others. The geek factor grew throughout each drill which also included balancing our poles on our wrists as though we were carrying a large tippy tray down the slope and dragging the poles on the snow. The goal was the same for all: establishing a perfectly balanced stance that would enable us to be most efficient in our skiing. As with our students, we found that different things resonated with different people.

At lunch we talked about the PSIA Teaching Model which includes the following format: introduction, determine goals, create lesson plan, present and demonstrate information, check for understanding, practice and review. For kids, it’s play, drill, adventure. There was much talk about the CAP Model which is an acronym for cognitive, affective and physical, stages of development that one must especially keep in mind when teaching children.

Our afternoon consisted of practice on the bumps and an endless array of wedge christie demos, something I found to be onerous on blue terrain. (Skis—especially today’s shaped ones—automatically want to glide into a parallel rather than push into a wedge. If only novice skiers could get this feeling right off, they’d save themselves a lot of effort and soreness.)

C.T. chatted about DIRT which stands for duration, intensity, rate and timing. By now I was feeling like how my students must feel at the end of a full-day lesson: weary and somewhat on overload yet quite satisfied. My skiing had been tweaked. I was now thinking more about “short leg, long leg” on my dynamic parallel turns and thanks to C.T., I had stuffed a bunch more drills and teaching aids into my bag of tricks.

He cheerfully thanked all of us for our attention at the base of the mountain. His exuberance had never waned. For a geek, he’s one heck of an outgoing guy. I would do well to emulate his approach. I think PSIA is on to something.

Thank you to fellow ski instructor, Todd Brown, for the above photo.

Playing Tourist in T-ride

Telluride's Famous Steeps

I read somewhere a week ago that we’re beyond the halfway point of the ski season. My heart sunk. Why do all good things have to go by so fast? The good news is that our snow is piling up (even beyond some of our wildest expectations!) and the best of the season lies before us.

I had been taking my own personal ski inventory these past few weeks and although my number of skier days on the mountain is significant, I still hadn’t had one complete “free ski” day yet this year. Between my ski instructing and training and hours at my desk, I hadn’t been able to block a whole day on the mountain to myself. Sure, I had snatched a couple hours here and there when I wasn’t teaching the skills of a wedge christie or fine tuning my own basic and dynamic parallel, but I hadn’t yet enjoyed a whole day at Telluride Ski Resort for myself. It was time to play tourist on my neighborhood hill.

Plus there was Alpino Vino, a new restaurant on the mountain (which had actually opened last year), that everyone was buzzing about and I hadn’t even poked my head in to check it out. I was way overdue for Bushwacker and Plunge, super long groomed blacks synonymous with Telluride, two of the most epic ski runs in the country. And the idea of delighting in a leisurely mountaintop lunch in a new, happening restaurant made me feel like I was embarking upon a trip to a whole other destination. (Not that I ever tire of T-ride, mind you.)

Certainly the best part of this was that my boyfriend, Steve, was to join me for the whole day. We love skiing a few runs here and there together, but for me to “get him” for an entire day is a real treat. (Not only am I busy, but it’s not every weekend that he wants to dial it down to be content skiing with me. As a Telluride ski instructor, I can hold my own, yet I’m still not the hotshot he is on T-ride’s multitude of black and double black diamond runs.)

We headed straight for Chair 9, a local’s favorite, where virtually every run—black or double black—plummets into town. My first turns felt great but as I approached the super steep pitch of the Plunge, I had a few oh-shit moments that enabled me to better identify with the fear that hits my students as they test their skills on everything from the Magic Carpet to a blue run. Forever the ski instructor, I pushed the play button in my head which told me to maintain a balanced stance, GET FORWARD, tip and turn, flex and extend, angulate and GET FORWARD.

Steve bombed ahead of me, obviously forgetting that I had only skied about two blacks so far this season. “How did I do?” I dared to ask once I caught up to him.

“You can ski better than that,” he answered. So much for positive reinforcement. Then as if in an attempt to make things better he added “you need to get out and free ski more.”

I skied off without comment, highly unusual behavior for me which in itself told him a lot.

He picked up the conversation on the next chairlift ride, in an effort to smooth things over. “Really, hun, all you need to do is ski the tough stuff more.”

“Yes and I also need to write more, read more, stretch more, sleep more, there’s a lot more I need to be doing in my life.” I was almost wishing I had my own ski instructor with me to give me kudos, something most of us are really good at at Telluride Ski and Snowboard School. But I gave Steve a nudge on the chair and a wry smile, determined not to let it ruin our day.

Alpino Vino: My Refuge

We skied Bushwacker, another Plunge and a few other favorites before taking the Gold Hill lift up to See Forever and skiing down to Alpino Vino. It was 1:30 p.m. by now and the restaurant was hopping. And even though it was a snowy day, people were even seated outside on the front deck, clearly having a festive time, warmed by heaters and fine wine. We were lucky to score a table inside right by the window; although after having looked around a bit I realized that every table within this cozy enclave offered spectacular views.

Cathy, the bubbly maîtresse d’hôtel, greeted us warmly. Dressed in elegant alpine attire from Alpen Schatz, Telluride’s exclusive alpine boutique, she proceeded to tell us about the house specialties which include a selection of fine cured meats and cheeses, panini, insalata caprasi and antipasto side accompaniments such as oven roasted yellow tomatoes and garlic and herb marinated Tuscan olives. She also recommended we chose a tasting flight so that we could sample a few different wines. Our day was already looking up!

Andrew, Alpino Vino’s sommelier, quickly presented us with our selection of nectars, Italian Whites for me, Tuscan Reds for Steve. I felt giddy by now, not yet from the wine but simply by just sitting within this tony mountainside nook, complete with white linen napkins and waiters donned in alpine garb, while I watched the snow falling gently outside and skiers powering down the narrow descent at the top of See Forever. Also Steve was finally beginning to let go and it was clear that he was adapting nicely to the idea of taking a hedonistic lunch in the middle of a super ski day. (He usually just grabs a hotdog, coke and a chocolate bar between double black diamond runs.)

A High-Mountain Feast

My Italian (the real deal, with family origins in the Dolomites—no wonder he’s such a damn good skier!) sweetheart really perked up when we were served an array of appetizing-looking plates. Our picture-perfect antipasto consisted of fine cheeses and cured meats, fresh bread, grissini, virgin olive oil, dried fruits and nuts, truffle honey, sherry mustard and rosemary chips. We weren’t sure what was wooing us more: the antipasto, the gorgonzola and tomato soup or the gigandes white beans, prepared with garlic and olive oil that we spread on toast like butter. Steve commented that he hadn’t tasted such fine meats since his last trip to the Italian Alps.

Our flight of wines accompanied each dish belllismo. And even though we rarely drink at lunch, we were enjoying all so much that we asked Andrew to serve us up another couple of ounces to finish off the cheese. He presented us with a taste of a thirty-year old Port and a Sauternes. By now we had slipped into full-on Euro mode and Steve and I commented to each other that this sort of wining and dining is standard practice in Europe.

We left an hour and a half later, high on having enjoyed superlative food and drink in the highest restaurant in the United States (elevation: 11,966 feet). Truly one of the best dining experiences offered in Telluride, we expressed great contentment at finally having had the chance to share such a moment together.

We skied off much more relaxed than how we had started our day. My turns felt better than ever, the tapes calmed in my head and we zipped down a half a dozen more favorite trails in the remaining hour of the day. We popped our skis off at 4:10 p.m. at the base of Lift 4 and gave each other a frozen, runny-nosed kiss.

Our last burst of energy warmed us enough to sit outside at the Hop Garden and enjoy a PBR in a plastic up. Steve had moved two of the standing space heaters close to our table and we sat closely together grooving to the musicians that strummed Grateful Dead and Pink Floyd tunes to the delight of the après-ski crowd. We giggled over the contrast between this near festival-like scene and the high-brow presentation of Alpino Vino. Clearly we enjoyed both worlds and all the rest that our glorious mountain provides.

It was fun to play tourist for a day in Telluride. Now I can approach my wedge turning with renewed enthusiasm. And, of course, eagerly await my next opportunity to steal a free ski day. And as always, work on my turns.

Alpino Vino, open daily for lunch and high-end snacks; it’s pricey but worth it.

Alpen Schatz, 307 E. Colorado Avenue; 970-728-4433, www.alpenschatz.com; visit my Shopping Page to find out about the special discount you can receive from Alpen Schatz.

Hop Garden, open daily for lunch and dinner from 11 a.m.-10 p.m.; 970-728-7467.

Thank you to Randy Barnes and Brett Schreckengost for the above images.

It’s Dumping in the Rockies

Let it Snow!

As though right on cue, the big snows are arriving in the Rockies like a gathering of elves furiously putting the finishing touches on holiday preparations at the North Pole. Like kids on Christmas Eve, people in ski towns all across Colorado are suffering from ski fever as the pow pow accumulates outside our doors. The only release is to ski (or board!) and those lucky enough to get out are enjoying some of the best first tracks of the season.

Less than two weeks ago the sun shone brightly throughout most of Colorado as the thermometer displayed nearly springlike temperatures. Opening day in Telluride was as much about hanging out at the Hop Garden, a popular slopeside restaurant and bar, as stretching your legs on the slopes. Yet from Aspen to Vail to Crested Butte, all were eager to see some real snow. Even Sylvester, the cat, the lucky resident of the Sundeck, Aspen’s mountaintop restaurant, longed to see snow blowing outside his window. (Heck, if it’s cold and nearly winter in the mountains, it might as well snow!)

Sylvester, Aspen's Premiere Mountain Cat

Our wish has been granted and clearly winter is rolling in with great force. Just in time, too. Here in Telluride we’re gearing up for the LG FIS Snowboardcross World Cup that kicks off shortly. World-class athletes have already begun to arrive, some earlier than originally planned since there’s apparently no snow in Europe. Wait ‘til they get a taste of the Champagne powder of the great American West.

Click here to see what winter is like in Telluride. You really must see this for its incredibly beautiful. Thank you to Ben Knight for capturing the magic of our awe-inspiring place.

Thank you also to Lisa Wilson for the top photo and Tom Watkinson for the one below.  Check out more of Lisa’s photos at Telluride Daily Photo and be sure to consider her 2010 calendar for holiday gifts.  I love her shots of life in Telluride.

End Note:  As I write this, I’ve had to reassure my kitties, Leo and Clara, that all is well.  They’re blasting outside, a good sign for everyone but cats.  I wonder how little Sylvester is surviving the avalanche control work in Aspen.  He’s surely hiding, especially since he’s known to only emerge before the rush, early in the morning and after lunch.

Also if you’re lucky enough to be in Telluride, stop by the Hop Garden today at 4 p.m. to meet the US Team athletes for poster signing and fun.

Steve and Me in Front of the Hop Garden on Opening Day

Wonderful Wolf Creek

Wolf Creek: The Snowiest Ski Area in Colorado

It’s terrific how quickly you can throw yourself into another season.  It’s been feeling like winter here in Colorado for nearly two weeks, every since a big November storm dumped two and a half feet of snow on a good part of the Rockies.  That’s just how I like it:  sunny and warm until mid November, then boom, hello snow.

I have much to write about my stay at The Broadmoor, but I’ll save that for later since right now I’m too excited about the start of ski season.  Our mountain, Telluride Ski Resort, opens tomorrow and I can hardly wait.  I already have the ski bug, especially after having whetted my appetite last week at Wolf Creek, a low key, family owned and operated ski area, known to be consistently endowed with the most snow in Colorado.  Tucked up against the Continental Divide, our nation’s backbone, Wolf Creek typically opens early November (sometimes even by Halloween) with a more than respectable base made up almost entirely of natural snow.

By the time we left Colorado Springs, Steve and I were eager to hit the slopes.  I had located my equipment in my secondary storage unit (read about my packing dramas here) and aside for the need of a good ski waxing, I was good to go.  (The bikini wax had, of course, been taken care of before heading out on our trip.) Since we were approaching Wolf Creek from the northeast, we decided to locate a nice place to stay in South Fork, a quaint and quiet little town, probably best known for its fly fishing during the summer months.  My Internet research pulled up Arbor House Inn, an elegant bed and breakfast on the Rio Grande river (which actually begins just a short drive up the mountain at the top of the Divide).

One of Several Well-Dressed Tables at Arbor House Inn

Hosts Keith and Laurie and Their Pups

Steve and I could not have been more enchanted with our choice.  I do think you can judge a book by its cover—at least most of the time—and you can also confidently select a place of lodging by its Web site.  Sure, there’s always a chance for surprises but seasoned travel researchers generally know how to separate the good from the bad.  We had nothing but delightful surprises at Arbor House Inn.  In fact we were amazed to find such a polished establishment in the middle-of-nowhere-town of South Fork.  Plush robes, candles in our room, well-stocked coffee and tea stations both in our room and in the inn’s dining room, candles at breakfast—there isn’t a detail passed over in this delightful inn.  A sumptuous breakfast, overlooking a bucolic river scene, completes the romantic tableau that innkeepers Keith and Laurie Bratton have created in this little haven of peace in southwestern Colorado.  Indeed these fine hosts are as gracious as their surroundings.  And if you’re a dog lover, you’ll enjoy their two adorable Dachshunds as well as Chloe’s Corner, a charming room decorated with portraits of all our favorite canine ancestors.  I love a place with a sense of humor and whimsy!

Chalet Swiss in South Fork

Second big discovery:  Chalet Swiss, a lovely restaurant and bar, located just across the street from Arbor House Inn.  In truth, I had been to this Euro-owned and operated bastion of tradition a couple of times before but it was fun to re-discover it with Steve, an Italian, who greatly appreciates fine dining without a bunch of fanfare.  (This is actually very European.)  Owner and Chef Fredi Brechbuehler presents specialties from his native Switzerland including Cheese Fondue, Raclette and Schitzel along with more traditional dishes such as Colorado Lamb Chops Provençale and Chicken Mushroom Fettuccine.  It’s all perfect fare for pre or post recreating on the mountain.

It was tough pulling ourselves away from Arbor House Inn, even with the excitement of heading out for our first day on the slopes.  Our enthusiasm mounted, however, as we embarked upon the climb to Wolf Creek Pass, a mere twenty-minute ascent that would take us to an elevation of 10,857 feet.  In some respects it felt like I was coming home since I skied Wolf Creek a whole season when I first moved to Colorado—Pagosa Springs, Colorado to be exact—nearly eight years ago.  (I can’t believe it has been that long.)

Celebrating its seventieth year, Wolf Creek epitomizes the sort of ski resort that many of us remember from childhood, the kind of mountain where lunch and lift tickets remain affordable and pretension of any kind feels out of place.  Steve and I were thrilled.  It took me a bit of doing to get going but once I heated up my boots beneath the blow dryer of the Ladies’ Room, I was ready to start my ski day.  (Hint:  Don’t ever leave your ski boots in a frozen car overnight, something I know better than to do but hey, we’re all rusty at the start of the season.  Also, it’s best to cover your boots or put them in a boot bag in storage since I found mine to be loaded—well maybe not loaded but bad enough—with mouse turds!)

Wolf Creek Powder Day

We hopped on the Raven Chair, Wolf Creek’s high-speed quad, an addition since I was last here, and began our day of skiing.  Our choice of cruisers felt limitless since the whole mountain was open and coverage throughout was excellent.  My ski conditioning workouts had paid off and Steve and I were able to ski run after run until we finally decided to stop for a bite to eat (I recommend the green chili stew here) and gulps of much-needed water.  I let Steve ski the Alberta Lift—the part of the mountain where you find the most challenging terrain—the rest of the afternoon while I did more laps on the blues.  It’s best to break yourself in slowly early season, at least for a cream puff like me.

Tomorrow I get to test my legs again on the slopes.  But this time, it’s here in T-ride, on the very slopes I can spot right out my window.

Thank you, Wolf Creek, for the primer.  Now it’s time for the big league.

Wolf Creek Ski Area, Pagosa Springs, CO, 800-SKI-WOLF (754-9653) and 970-264-5639, www.wolfcreekski.com

Wolf Creek offers a dozen or So Locals’ Appreciation Days on Wednesdays throughout the season.  All-day adult lift tickets are priced at $31. and no special I.D. is required.  The regular price is $52. most other days.

Arbor House Inn, 31358 West Highway 160, South Fork, 888-830-4642 and 719-873-5012, www.arborhouseinnco.com

Chalet Swiss, West Highway 160 across from Arbor House Inn, 719- 873-1100