The view looking west from the top of the Panorama lift at Monarch
Modern helmet and all... One of the obvious benefits of living in Colorado is the snow skiing. It's literally world-class. This point was made clear to me on a trip to Switzerland, when I bemoaned the fact that I didn't have time to plan skiing the Alps, my hosts asked, "Where do you live?" "Colorado," I replied. "Why would you ski here? We go there to ski!"
For years I've felt mildly guilty that I haven't taken advantage of the great skiing offered here. I did for the first years I lived here. But the last time I skied was with my children over 10 years ago. We gave them the opportunity to try skiing for several years when they were little and while they did well, they didn't seem to love it. It's such an expensive endeavor, I let it go.
So this Spring Break, I decided to take time off with my wife (who works on the school calendar.) Little did I know that she'd planned a girls' day out to Denver with friends. So, I decided I'd take the day to ski.
My equipment is obsolete, and likely banned from the slopes, so I had to rent for the first time in living memory. That wasn't tough, though admitting that I used to ski 195 cm grand slalom skis dated me. The ski tech laughed as he showed me the 166 cm all mountain skis I'd be using. "Those 190 days are gone," he said. Oh, and the rental had to include a helmet, something I'd never used on the slopes.
A lift ticket to Monarch Ski Area was purchased online in advance, at a respectable discount. I love Monarch despite it's small size. It's easy to cover the entire mountain in a few runs and settle in where the conditions are best. And in my early years in Colorado, they had the best military discount!
The drive was uneventful, though I didn't get moving as early as I thought I might. But I was on the slopes by 9:45 a.m. I wanted to be careful, but figured I could warm up on blue runs. Despite the time since I'd last done this, I was a pretty fair skier. And it came back so quickly, it didn't feel as if it had been anywhere near as long as it had been. Blue runs quickly gave way to a few short black ones, only one significantly bumpy steep one that incited mild panic for an instant. I quickly rediscovered how much I loved this! I skied past noon, ate my lunch from the open hatch of my SUV and noticed how many people seem to leave by early afternoon. As the day's exertions started to be felt I began to cruise the empty green runs, much faster than I would have had they not been empty. When I finished perhaps my longest uninterrupted run, a bit winded, I asked myself if I should do one more? And I remembered the answer, no. If you have to ask, it's time to quit.
Although it was early for dinner, I stopped in Salida, finally leaving Hwy 50 for the downtown area for the first time ever. I found a great little tavern, had a burger and some fun conversation with some locals at the bar and regretted that it took me so long to visit Salida in earnest. They convinced me to come try my antique kayak in the Arkansas River there sometime. Hopefully, that will be another blog entry someday.
The return drive was uneventful, but somehow much longer than the output trip. As much as I rekindled my love of skiing, I also rediscovered the challenges of day-trip skiing, where it's tough to actually ski for longer than you spend driving the round trip. So, I don't think I'll be investing in new ski gear very soon; however, I feel better about myself as a Coloradoan for having done it again.
For years I've felt mildly guilty that I haven't taken advantage of the great skiing offered here. I did for the first years I lived here. But the last time I skied was with my children over 10 years ago. We gave them the opportunity to try skiing for several years when they were little and while they did well, they didn't seem to love it. It's such an expensive endeavor, I let it go.
So this Spring Break, I decided to take time off with my wife (who works on the school calendar.) Little did I know that she'd planned a girls' day out to Denver with friends. So, I decided I'd take the day to ski.
My equipment is obsolete, and likely banned from the slopes, so I had to rent for the first time in living memory. That wasn't tough, though admitting that I used to ski 195 cm grand slalom skis dated me. The ski tech laughed as he showed me the 166 cm all mountain skis I'd be using. "Those 190 days are gone," he said. Oh, and the rental had to include a helmet, something I'd never used on the slopes.
A lift ticket to Monarch Ski Area was purchased online in advance, at a respectable discount. I love Monarch despite it's small size. It's easy to cover the entire mountain in a few runs and settle in where the conditions are best. And in my early years in Colorado, they had the best military discount!
The drive was uneventful, though I didn't get moving as early as I thought I might. But I was on the slopes by 9:45 a.m. I wanted to be careful, but figured I could warm up on blue runs. Despite the time since I'd last done this, I was a pretty fair skier. And it came back so quickly, it didn't feel as if it had been anywhere near as long as it had been. Blue runs quickly gave way to a few short black ones, only one significantly bumpy steep one that incited mild panic for an instant. I quickly rediscovered how much I loved this! I skied past noon, ate my lunch from the open hatch of my SUV and noticed how many people seem to leave by early afternoon. As the day's exertions started to be felt I began to cruise the empty green runs, much faster than I would have had they not been empty. When I finished perhaps my longest uninterrupted run, a bit winded, I asked myself if I should do one more? And I remembered the answer, no. If you have to ask, it's time to quit.
Although it was early for dinner, I stopped in Salida, finally leaving Hwy 50 for the downtown area for the first time ever. I found a great little tavern, had a burger and some fun conversation with some locals at the bar and regretted that it took me so long to visit Salida in earnest. They convinced me to come try my antique kayak in the Arkansas River there sometime. Hopefully, that will be another blog entry someday.
The return drive was uneventful, but somehow much longer than the output trip. As much as I rekindled my love of skiing, I also rediscovered the challenges of day-trip skiing, where it's tough to actually ski for longer than you spend driving the round trip. So, I don't think I'll be investing in new ski gear very soon; however, I feel better about myself as a Coloradoan for having done it again.
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