Bagging the Plan

I haven't posted for a few days. I've had plenty to write about, but I've been soooo sleeeeepy, again. Usually, given the choice of posting or sleeping, I'll post. This weekend, though, I have been in bed by midnight TWO NIGHTS IN A ROW. Unheard of.

Maybe I'm just pooped out from the ski-day I took on Friday instead of opting for a restful day in the office. I felt like I had earned a day off, after the trauma of the last few weeks; and I have vowed to ski more with friends this year than I have in years past. So, my friend/coworker Rebecca and I went to Snowbird and Alta. The two resorts interconnect - both Becca and I know Snowbird well, but haven't skied much at Alta. The trip from Snowbird over to Alta was complicated by high winds and low visibility. The way I'm familiar with was roped off because the wind had built up a cornice on it, so we had to take an alternate route. We negotiated our way through the white-out and were approached at the bottom of a chair-lift by a woman who asked us how to get to Alta. Pulling our face masks down, we hollered over the wind that we were making our way there ourselves and so she jumped on the chair with us. She was nice and, after doing a few runs and always finding that the three of us were standing next to each other in the lift line at the bottom, we laughed and decided to spend the day together.

This woman's name is Natalie, and she's an ad agency exec from New York. She's also a really good skier. I did not plan to spend the day pushing my competitive little self to the limit with an expert, but it was good for me. We skied some blacks [for my non-skiing blog buddies, ski runs are rated for relative difficulty: green, blue, black, double black] and I did well, which was s surprise for me. Until we ended up on a run called "Schuss Gully" that wigged me out a little. If I could just keep moving, y'know? But when it gets really steep, I chicken out of the turn and keep traversing, traversing, traversing... until I'm at the side of the run and come to a stop. Stopping is the kiss of death. If making a fearful turn while in motion is bad, making a fearful turn from a standstill is three times worse. Still, I got down it with a combination of side-slipping and obscenity. What did I expect, really, starting down anything with a name that includes "schuss". Other runs that I never ski because it's obvious from the name that I would stare death in the face: "Mach Schnell"; "Great Scott!", "Steeper than Hell". None of these would bother Natalie, I'm sure. Nor Rebecca. Technically, she and I are about the same, but she's a lot gutsier. Remember the time we went top-roping?

The plan was that Becca and I would ski until 4:00 or so, then catch a bus back down to the parking lot in the valley where we had left our cars. It was my turn to pick up the kids, run to the store, make supper. But Natalie said, "What about a beer? I haven't done any Apres since I got here." I refrained from saying, "For locals, Apres is driving home and taking a hot shower." Indeed, instead of following the plan, I found myself in the Tram Club ( a real private club that requires purchasing a membership, something I have never done in the 16 years I've lived in Utah), listening to a live band and sucking on a long-neck. Natalie bought a second round and appetizers. Don't hang out with people who are on vacation when you're not - it'll make you irresponsible. Becca and I missed the last bus to our parking lot. I had to call Si and ask him to....pick up the kids, run to the store, and then drive to a distant and inconvenient parking lot to pick us up and drive us back to our cars.

Half drunk and achy-muscled, Becca and I were apologetic when he picked us up, but he was actually happy about it. "Oh, for heaven's sake, let your hair down once in a while and bag the plan, huh?"