That Spouse o' Mine and I spent a good part of the week in Colorado, around Breckenridge, specifically. I say "around" because, except for a delightful après-ski lunch at my favorite French sandwich shop, we did not set foot in Breckenridge proper; we were out on the mountains in the snow and sun and other elements for the greater part of our stay at altitude.
Every morning we would arise and sip coffee by the fire, reading newspapers until the temperature rose enough that we deemed it "comfortable" to go explore on skis or snowshoes. (Comfortable: 20º?)
When I say "ski", it means on XC, or cross-country skis. My downhill days ended a few years ago when I decided that the slopes were too crowded with faster (and less-in-control) skiers than I. I love downhill skiing, and I love a day full of riding the ski lifts and skiing all over the slopes, finally ending as the sun falls back behind the mountains, and the snow is just getting granular with ice, at the same time my body is becoming granular with fatigue. But, those days, for me, are over.
This week the two of us hiked the snowy mountains, XC skied the snowy mountains, snowshoed the mountains. It was pretty nice. No:it was REALLY nice.
It was also my birthday. Birthday girl hit fifty-four this week. Wowza.
I am happy that I got to spend the week in the snow, in the mountains, with my best friend, doing some things we both enjoy.
So, here's to.....
Yippee! I can still ski and snowshoe!
(That's where I was going; Yes!)