"Happy is he who . . . writes from the love of imparting certain thoughts and not from the necessity of sale -- who writes always to the unknown friend." -- Ralph Waldo Emerson
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The freedom of a "bluebird" day
Today was a perfect "bluebird" day in the mountains, as skiers and snowboarders like to call the clear-blue-sky days we often get here in Colorado. This was my second day skiing this season -- I went to Copper Mountain last Thursday and Winter Park today. Both days were great, and the best part is I'm not nearly as sore as I usually am after my first couple of days skiing each season. I credit the weight training I added to my workouts last summer -- nothing fancy, but the twice-a-week sessions working out my arms and legs do have some benefit.
At the encouragement of my husband, I got smarter about skiing last year and bought a season pass. Daily lift tickets at most Colorado resorts are now more than $80. (When I first started skiing at age 9, an adult daily lift ticket was about $25. Amazing.) So why not shell out a few hundred dollars before the season ever starts and go as many times as you want? Some people don't see the benefit to this for the ski resorts. Why even offer season passes when you could force people to pay $80 at the ticket window each day? Because ski resorts are not making their money off lift tickets, despite the ever-rising prices. The money is all in real estate (i.e. lodging), and the more times they can get people up to ski, the more likely it is they'll stay the night . . . and of course bring their friends/family and spend other money as well.
Anyway, a season pass is a great benefit for the skier. I'm not sure why I never considered it before. I blame my former inability to manage money very well, and therefore the mentality I'd never be able to afford a season pass. The season pass enables me to ski any day I choose, and if the weather turns out to be horrible, oh well. I can come back another day. I don't have to get up at the crack of dawn to get all my money's worth out of an $80 lift ticket. I can show up at mid-day and ski a few hours.
Today I skied nearly a full day. My husband doesn't ski. He wants to learn, but wintertime is crazy with his basketball play-by-play schedule. I have only a few friends who ski. I grew up skiing with my brothers and dad. My brothers moved to the Midwest, and my dad's hip bothers him now, so I mostly ski alone. I actually don't mind it, although some people look at me like I'm crazy to drive two hours to the mountains alone, followed by a day of skiing all by myself.
To be honest, I prefer the alone days. When you've skied most of your life, it isn't that difficult or weird. I feel so comfortable skiing, it's almost like coming home. And a day alone on the slopes is much safer than hiking alone. There are so many people around you, and half the time you end up riding the lift with someone else and striking up a conversation, so you really do share the experience with others.
Besides, I tend to be pretty independent up there. I like to skip lunch -- I find I don't get that hungry skiing, strangely enough -- and I usually ski one run after another without stopping. It's one of the only things I do in which I feel truly free -- free to clear my head of all my worries, free to be just who I am. It's just me and Jesus up there, floating across the snow, breathing in the fresh air, thinking about nothing much in particular except how glorious a Colorado "bluebird" day is.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment