Last Ski Train of the Season

My pal, Reid, and I joined a bunch of other crazy folks for the season's last Ski Train to Winter Park last Sunday. Boy-o-boy, that was a genius move - even though I had to get up at 5:30 a.m. to get it going. As some would believe, living in Colorado and NOT skiing all season is tantamount to treason. I don't agree, however, it was refreshing reminder of where I actually live.

We joined our pals with Up The Creek, an outdoorsy bunch of folks that can't seem to sit still. I hitched my wagon to 'em my first year here in Colorado and they took me everywhere. They like to have adventures and they like to drink. OMG, it's like we're related!

Truth is, I just don't ski that much. It's too bloody expensive ($92 for a lift ticket??? Does it come with dinner???) and I loathe sitting in post-ski traffic on I-70 - I get 405 Freeway flashbacks. What a buzzkill. But since I scored a $45 lift ticket and the ski train was running - how could I refuse?

While strapping on all the gear, I just kept praying that my body memory would kick in and my legs would remember what they were supposed to do because my brain couldn't be trusted. To my surprise, it all came back and I only fell when other people crashed into me. No double black diamonds on the menu, however, I'm strictly a blue/green gal.

What a gorgeous day! Highlights were skiing between trees and not getting killed and finding an abandoned Warming Hut to enjoy smokie treats. Also, the ecstasy that comes with taking off one's ski boots at the end of the day is unparalleled. From there, booze flowed up and down the train. Folks snuggled, sang and flirted as the gorgeous scenery whizzed by.

Approaching our adorable wee metropolis, I got another perspective. Denver just sits out there on the plains with miles of bare land around it, looking like it may have come up through the ground itself. Sometimes I forget how remote it is until I remember that this is the official reason there is no Trader Joe's here - "too far from everything else." I'm still not over it.

After Reid and I chowed down some greasy food, I went home and slept ... for 12 HOURS. 'Twas a perfect day and much needed.