Riding the Roof of America

Monday marked day “numero uno” of my riding season.  I headed to Arapaho Basin; they managed to open two trails a little over a week ago.  Needless to say, my expectations were not high as my only means of comparison to October snow sliding was the one, sparsely covered, trail Killington managed to open around this time a couple years back.  I was surprised to see that the parking lot was nearly full when I arrived.  MONDAY morning?  Really? Two Trails? October?  Isn’t Monday the day where America reluctantly returns to their cubes or offices?  I couldn’t believe how many people were trying to take advantage of early season days.

The bitterly cold, cloudy morning blossomed into an afternoon much like any late April day of spring skiing. Due to the elevation the sun is much more powerful in the mountains: 38 degrees and sunny feels like 50+ degrees.   The lift lines were long, but that was to be expected once I saw how crowded the parking lot was.   The long lines didn’t phase me; I was getting my first day on October 26th… not too bad.

I guess people out here really take for granted how good their snow is.  I arrived before Alan, therefor I had the luxury of getting a few warm up runs in.  It was a pleasure chatting with the girl who accompanied me on my first chair ride up.  As an ice breaker I explained that this was my first run of the season and asked her how the conditions were.  I was very disappointed when she explained that the slopes were icy and hard.  SHIT!  I don’t care how good anyone thinks they are at skiing or snowboarding: after a spring, summer, and fall of not riding down a mountain the first couple of turns always connect a little more awkwardly than one would like to admit.  After I got my snowboarding “mojo” back I began to come to the realization that there wasn’t any ice.  I was cruising down snow that was very familiar to me.  This was the snow that covered many New England slopes after a light snowfall and some decent grooming.  What is “icy” to a Westerner is groomed hard pack to a Easterner.

I met up with Alan and we continued to ride.  Most people would scoff at a day of riding two trails; it was plenty for a first day.  The altitude continues to dominate me.  Now, I’m not in the best shape, but after a spring/summer of cycling you’d think that it would be in my physical ability to avail myself to the force of gravity to  slide down a mountain.  FALSE: I was sucking wind after every run.  As a result of this I think I might start jogging to get my body used to the lower concentration of oxygen in the air.  ***I would suggest doing some serious cardiovascular activity to anyone who is thinking about visiting me!***

While waiting in the lift line I noticed that I was standing next to professional skier John Spriggs.  I understand that it will be a somewhat common occurrence to see professional skiers and snowboarders on the slopes.  Apparently Shaun White (hate the man) has a house in Breckenridge so seeing him is almost guaranteed.

Upon throwing as many lines in the two open trails as we could, Alan and I grabbed the first real meal I have had since I made the move out to Breck.  A burger and a couple beers from Breckenridge Brewery were especially delicious after eating Clif Bars and Ramen noodles for 5 days.

I move into my house on Friday.  I have been enjoying my palatial suite at the hotel; however, I’m excited to have a spot that I can officially call home for the coming months.  Its going to snow for the remainder of the week.  I cant wait.

Cheers.

After three long days on the road I finally arrived in Breckenridge, CO.  30+ hours of driving is easy to plan, think about, and talk about.  Executing the drive leaves little to be desired.  Driving while blasting my latest music discoveries is one of my favorite pastimes; after this journey I don’t know if i will ever look forward to doing so again.   Even my favorite tunes eventually started to simply provide a vexatious background noise that I paid little attention to, regardless of how hard I tried to enjoy.

I have to admit, it was an eye opening  experience to see the heart of America.  Endless corn fields, rolling hills, farm machines the size of small houses, and meager farm towns that remind me of the sticks straight out of the Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  The truck stops were amazing too.  Glorious establishments for truckers to revive the mind and body, fill up their massive gas tanks, and to prove to me that truckers are truly a breed of their own (I’ll leave it at that.)

I realized the significance of my move for the first time while I was checking out of my second hotel in Lincoln, Nebraska.  I revealed the fact that I was from Connecticut while chatting about the snowy weather with the hotel clerk.  The brief conversation ultimately focused on my journey to the Rockies and my reasons for my move.  After automatically firing off the explanation I had rehearsed so many times before, the clerk mentioned how hard it must be to simply leave everything that is normal and important to oneself; how she would never be able to follow through with such a thing, never-mind do it alone.  Only 700 miles away from Breck at this point, I started to agree with her and question my move.

The drive through the Rockies was absolutely breathtaking and at times somewhat frightening.   The roads alternated between ear-popping climbs to break burning descents that revealed some of the most beautiful mountain scenery I have ever seen.    This route undulates in this fashion indefinitely.  I got the impression that  the Rocky Mountain portion of  I-70 would not be especially fun to drive once the snow starts to fall in the Rockies; a good indicator that this assumption was true were the “Road Closed” Gates that threatened to shut off all traffic into the Mountains on a snowy day.

I will be moving into a house that has “Ski/Snowboard” and bus access to town and the gondola to the slopes.  I love the fact that I will be able to strap on my board, ride down through powder and trees, grab a few beers and hike back up to my house.  The house is the quintessential mountain home: wood stove, cedar floors and roof beams, and a wooded mountain setting.  The landlord has been extremely helpful and flexible; he will be providing us with living and dining room furniture and a couple beds; leaving us to find one bed, kitchen wares, and some sort of entertainment center or TV stand… I don’t anticipate this being a problem as there are plenty of listings on Craigslist and the Summit Daily paper for cheap furniture.  Move in occurs this coming Friday.

I’ve been spending my time casually looking for a job, trying to orchestrate things with my other roommates, acquainting  myself with the downtown area, and adapting to this bloody altitude.  Its my understanding that a low lander like myself will be short winded, experience some lethargy, headaches, fatigue, and an overall feeling of “blahhh” for several days to weeks: this is the cost of surfing down some of the sickest powder snow in the USA.

I’m happy to announce that my first day of shredding will be on Monday, October the 26th with Mr. Alan Sadonowicz.  We will be making our way to A-Basin to enjoy the few trails that they have open… a post will follow.

Cheers.

Love this quote I read in a forum: “Sometimes the Universe gives you a sign, sometimes it gives you a nudge as well if it thinks you need it. I have learnt to listen to these hints, as you ignore them at your own peril. What in the short term could be construed as a disaster often turned out to be a blessing in the greater picture. It is best to be calm in these situations. Sit and think things over without emotion. Work out what needs to be done. Change is often painful, as we do not like the unknown, even if the known is not a good place to be.”