Denver

They say Colorado has over three hundred days of sunshine each year. But, this winter, someone forgot to remind mother nature. It was a cold and snowy winter in Vail, Colorado--I invested a small percentage of my income to toe and hand warmers and never felt the need for Spring gloves. So, when the chairlifts stopped spinning on Vail Mountain's closing day, it was time to retreat to warmer pastures.

Less than one hundred miles away, a warmer, more urban city began calling our names: Denver.

Known as the mile high city for it's elevation 5,280 feet above sea level, Denver was still a good 3,000 feet below the town of Vail--which is why we moved from mid-winter snow conditions to Springtime and sunshine in a less than a two hour drive; Goodbye puffy coats, hello short sleeves!

When we arrived, we had a quick peek at our fancy hotel room at the new Hyatt, before we zipped into town on the 16th street mall shuttle. We had planned to go to the lacrosse game, but after learning it was sold out, we decided to grab some grub at Wahoo's Fish Tacos instead.

(Scott; Walt and Francis)
When we entered the first bar in Denver, we were transported to a world miles away from the Ski Bar in Vail. We went to a popular Irish bar on Blake Street. "It's Celtic, like Sell-Tic, no it's Celtic like Kell-Tic," we playfully argued. We had a round and then found ourselves relocating to another bar near Coors field.

Lodo's was the place to be tonight--Not because they didn't turn the boys away for wearing hats, but because of the atmosphere. Our rooftop table with sparkling city lights in the background was a novelty, indeed. It had been a long time since we could enjoy an evening outdoors.

The bar was filled, as it should be on a Friday night. I enjoyed watching the people and wondering what they did for living. It was a slightly different crowd than my beloved snowboarder crew: No hoodies, no beanies, not even a fleece in sight. There were no blatant tourists or fur coats either. Most of the people here a younger, trendier crowd, dressed for success. The women were in heels and girly tops; the men, well-groomed, clean cut and shaven. You could even see their hair, trimmed short and styled above the ears. "We have the longest hair here," the boys chuckled.

(Me & Gergz)
We spent the evening sitting around our rooftop table, laughing and talking nonsense.

(Kylie and Walt)
We celebrated our friendship and our final night together in Colorado.



The next morning came early, and we did our very best to get Gergz to the airport in time for his 8:30am flight. The ticketing agent was kind enough to allow Gergz to fly standby on the next flight in three hours, but could do no favors for the extra heavy luggage.

With a few extra hours, Gergz and I had a lovely little airport experience...a nice breakfast at a French cafe, overlooking the central airport area below. Then, we camped out on our giant-sized trolley with our human-sized hippo-rhino friend.


I wasn't sure if the rhino or Gergz would make it on the next flight, but surprisingly, they both did! Bye Gergz!

Early afternoon, I headed back to the Hyatt to pick up the crew. Francis was ready to start cooking for our Saturday afternoon BBQ at Washington Park. Yeee haw!

The place was filled like Bondi Beach on a summer's day, flooded with twenty-somethings playing volleyball, cornhole, and soaking up the sun. It was just the kind of day we needed.
The evening flew by--I caught some Zs in the hotel room while my buddies went for dinner and drinks. By midnight, I was fresh and ready to meet them for one or two. (Francis and Hershey)

Sunday morning, we requested another late checkout and surfaced when it was time for food. We covered every inch around Federal and Alameda looking for King's Land, a popular Colorado Dim Sum place, but mmm, it was sure worth the search! Kylie especially loved the chicken feet (just kidding).

They say a surefire way to know if a someone is ready for marriage is to see how steady one can pour a cup of tea! Well, it turns out no one will be getting married anytime soon. I'll have to work on making a few less air bubbles next time.

We spent the rest of the afternoon shopping at Cherry Creek mall, catching up with one of Kylie's old friends, rock climbing near the R.E.I. store, and tasting a bit of Cuban food at the Samba Room on Larimer Square.

It was a full-on weekend, for sure, but certainly a fun way to kiss the season goodbye. BYE EVERYONE!

Closing Day

The final day of the ski season is always a memorable event. Though some of the traditions have changed over the years, some things are always the same: Wake up late--force the new hires to work, meet the crew in the locker room, dress up in the craziest gear you can find, hit the hill for a few hours, dodge a few snowballs at the top of Chair 4, take heaps of photos, wait for the avalanche bombs to go off, and then ride back down (pants, optional) to the after-party at Mezzaluna.

This year was all of that and more.

FRESH TRACKS
The morning started at the crack of dawn; I was up by 5am--I had a show to do! It was the last episode of Fresh Tracks for the 2007-2008 season; the last look at the Honda Sessions and the Bon Appetit Culinary and Wine Focus segments, the last five-day forecast, the last sponsored snow report. Yes, Vail Mountain would be closing today, with 3 inches of fresh snow overnight and three feet in the past week! Everyday is a powder day here in Vail, Colorado, it seems. Who could believe Vail would stop turning the lifts with a 79 inch mid-mountain base! Ridiculous, I tell you, ridiculous. That's what happens when you get one hundred inches more snow than average; a whopping 463 inches of snow this entire season. Luckily though, today, on this final day, Vail finally had a taste of Spring, with sunshine and blue skies in the forecast.

The last show was a colorful one; one with doughnuts and costumes galore. We signed off triumphantly, in Saturday Night Live style. We sang Wyclef's Fresh Tracks theme song in unison, "Everyday is a holiday..."


SUNDAY BRUNCH
After the show, I joined twenty of my closest friends for a Sunday morning brunch at the Austrian-styled Sonnenalp--all you can eat Brekkie for twenty bucks. We dined in style, dressed to the nines in the latest 80's Gaper Gear: spandex stretch pants, leopard print, neon, one-pieces, it was a trip to say the least.


We celebrated Jayne's annual thirtieth birthday and watched her dance to Madonna's Like a Virgin.

SHORT BOARDS
From there, we were off to the children's center at the top of Eagle's Nest, where we screwed bindings to miniature snowboards. There would be ninety centimeters of fun today (compared to my normal 143). We scorched our everyday stomping grounds, spinning 1's, 3's and 5's while lapping the beginners on Chair 15.



The gang then ventured to Chair 2, pulling a few more tricks out of their back pockets...

It was quite a show to see--so many big people on such little boards and skis.

So many complete and utter wipeouts underneath the chairlift.

But, that's all part of the fun--it's the last day of the season!!!


CHAIR 4 @ 4:00
By 3:42 we were in line to ride up Chair four. We stood among dozens of fellow party people outside the ropes at the bottom of chair 4, ready to join the masses of civilians, gapers and goofballs up top.

A final celebration, before the lifts would turn no more.



TROU(SERS)-DOWN
As the sun began to fall and shadows lengthened across the mountain; after the last avalanche bombs went off and after all our ammo was consumed, it was time to strap in our snowboards and shred Vail Mountain for the very last time.

Some people found more creative ways to get down the mountain,

but the majority of the pack screamed down Ramshorn. At Mid-Vail, the tradition lived on...

We shred so hard, our pants fell down!


Pants fell down along Cub's Way, along lower Columbine, and even Born Free.

Pants fell down and stayed down until the Lionshead skier bridge.

After crossing the finish line, we were then able to reclaim our dignity and celebrate a fantastic season at our favorite local hangout, Mezzaluna.

A tribute to three trou-dropping friends who were unable to be here this year: John Evans, Chiara Krusi, and Dive Burton---WE MISSED YOU!

Lemons

Maybe I'm a little bit accident prone.

I got a blister while furiously trying to twist off the apple juice lid, I burned a finger on the stove top and another finger on the heating element in the dishwasher.

Maybe I hit a streak of bad luck.

After having a raspy voice and sore throats for nearly three months with no solutions from my doctor, a specialist told me I should be using a notepad and a pencil to communicate outside of work. She put a camera down my nose and into my throat and took pictures of my larynx. She deduced that I was guilty of "vocal abuse," and I was developing a nodule on my vocal cords. Luckily, after cutting down my "talk time" for a period (a.k.a. reducing my social life to nil so I could practice being quiet in my room), I was able to prevent a biopsy in my larynx.

Maybe I'm just out of luck.

One month after purchase, my new external hard drive failed. Of course, I had already copied the 250 gigabytes of precious data onto the device, including my entire and only collection of electronic music, imovie files, and journals. Prices for this kind of data recovery begin at $2,000. Bum-mer.

I injured my knee while snowboarding at work with a client. I had to give up weeks of request private lessons and tips, and do modified duties instead. I also began using a day planner to keep track of all of my physical therapy and doctors appointments. When my employer's insurance company decided to deny the entire claim just before my MRI, suggesting I appeal this decision in court, I had to wonder, why does God hate me?

After stressing about footing a $2,400 dollar bill for a knee MRI--paying a whopping $550 out of pocket even with insurance--I was relieved to hear a few days later my company had decided to approve the test after all. Ok, God doesn't hate me.

In perfect timing, a girls night out and a hilarious romantic comedy like Forgetting Sarah Marshall sure upped my spirits. It was a welcomed escape to laugh at people with more problems than I do. "When life hands you lemons, I say fuck the lemons and bail!" said Chuck, the stoner surfie. I chuckled at his hilarious point of view.

I'd rather make lemonade. And, I have plenty of sugar to make it sweet.

With time, my throat will heal, the hard drive, still fucked, but my knee is feeling better! It turned out that what my physical therapists and doctors thought was a meniscus tear, turned out to be a sprained ACL. That's great news, really; No surgery, and I can go snowboarding as soon as it feels pain-free! ;) Time to celebrate over a tall glass of lemonade.

Interview with Wildlife Photographer Tony Newlin

Host Juliana Broste sits down with wildlife photographer and Wildlife Wonders galleries owner Tony Newlin to discuss how he got his start, where he takes his pictures, and his unique approach to wildlife photography. Newlin travels the world in search of wildlife in their natural environment and uses non-intrusive techniques to get close to the animals.

Copy and paste this link to see full interview:
http://vail.plumtv.com/videos/wildlife_photographer_tony_newlin

The Best Game Ever

Traveler IQ: 124
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The E.R.

I’ve had my share of powder days and seconds in the white room; knee deep pow, slashes, face shots, and fleeting moments of snowy bliss.

Today, I went to another white room, staring at my feet wrapped in an ivory blanket ontop of sterile, bleached bed sheets in a room partitioned with cream colored curtains.

It was like a bad dream, letting a man in blue scrubs secure the bed rails and wheel me down the hospital hallway.

Luckily, the process was more of a mental fake out than a dramatic E.R. episode. I managed to limp out of the E.R. with a pair of crutches to use at my discretion, and a date to return in a few days.

It was my left knee. Ironically, the incident was nearly as mysterious as the result. I must have strained it at work yesterday while snowboarding with my advanced intermediate client, though I'm not sure how it happened (because I did not fall or feel pain at any specific moment). I did, however, increase my stance width one inch that morning, which might have tweaked my knee is a strange way; or, maybe I twisted it while helping my client's friend step back into her skis mid-mountain any number of times. That's not something I usually do everyday. Either way, I knew I was in trouble when I woke up at 4am this morning in serious pain when flexing and extending my knee.

The doctor had a hard time pinpointing an exact injury. He said the main ligaments, muscles and bones are fine. Maybe I strained some cartilage or a smaller ligament, maybe my meniscus, or something, "I don't know," he said. It's always great when your doctor admits he or she doesn't know.

Unfortunately, I had to cancel my private lesson today and also clear my schedule for the next two days, before my reevaluation with occupational health. If I feel better then, I'll be cleared for work, and able to continue teaching snowboarding lessons during the busiest week of the year (hello Spring and Easter breakers). If not, I'll be bummed for missing out and not riding with three of my favorite clients from last year. Hopefully, I'll be back out there in no time!