Xmas 2010, Part 2

We took the family cross-country skiing at Devil's Thumb Ranch. 

 Cousins. I think Kieran looks like a warrior from Braveheart with that stick. 

 Helping Arden down a steep section. 

The sun came out and warmed us all up. 40 degrees here is practically summer. 

 Mom making good use of the company SWAG (Stuff We All Get). 

 Kieran. 

 Dad contemplates the hill he has to climb.

 Niki with Kieran in a Chariot.

 Ross with Kingston on board.

 Sawyer tries to make a parallel turn on his skinny skis. 

 But without the metal edges it doesn't go so well. 

Arden gave up halfway back to the lodge. I put her in the sled with her skis and when I turned around a few minutes later I found this.

To the Devil and Back.

In Virginia, I had a book club and a supper club. Here I have something of a hiking club. It started with just me and my coworker. We made a list at the beginning of the summer of all the hikes we wanted to do as the summer progresses, our group of women is growing. Our last hike to Devil's Thumb was by far the best.


The wildflowers are out in force - high alpine wildflowers in the spring is one of the things I missed about Colorado the most. (I feel like I say that about everything.) There are literally hundreds of wildflowers this time of year. Lupine, bluebells, columbine, indian paint brush, locoweed, orchids, lilies, the list goes on. I needed a book. I've forgotten more flower names than I ever knew. These are wild alpine sunflowers. Like real sunflowers, they stand up and face the sun.


When we got to the top there were still fields of snow and the cold wind was whipping.

All these hikes are building up to the summer pinnacle - Long's Peak, one of the more treacherous 14ers in the state. Treacherous, I think, because there's a lot of people trying to climb it, a lot of folks who probably shouldn't be up there. Next on the list, I think, is Byers Peak. It's the most prominent peak in town and can be seen from Granby and Winter Park. That's one that we'll have to park and then bike to the trailhead. Should be interesting!

Here's Devil's Thumb up close. I think it looks like a carved bear totem. Indian legend has it that there was a big battle in the valley here and when it was done, they buried the devil there, leaving only his thumb sticking up.

Pioneer Baby

Devil's Thumb

We took the kids to Tommelfest at Devil's Thumb Ranch this weekend, an odd celebration of Nordic culture centered largely around eating meat, skiing and throwing heavy objects. We looked a little goofy out there in our heavy telemark gear and baggy clothes while everyone else flittered around on a new generation of skinny skis wearing bulletproof spandex. Sawyer didn't want to get on his skis. He was way too excited about the "car" we rented, which he kept asking to "go faster." Finally, running into a girlfriend from school (she's 5), he decided to strut his stuff, little Napoleon that he his. (That video is on Facebook). The wind in this video, as always, sounds worse than it really was. But, don't get me wrong. I wasn't stripping down to a bikini either. I figure the combined weight of the kids s about 60 pounds. We each took turns, pulling the kids about 3 km each. Today my whole body feels like Gumby.

All in all, it was the first weekend here that I really started to feel like more than just a visitor. I ran into several different people I know at Tommelfest. It's strange, when you are used to small towns, to go somewhere and not know anybody.

Saturday night we had our office party, potluck style, at the circulation coordinator/delivery driver's house. He had set up 3,000 lights up outside his house. The directions we got were: "turn left and look for the glow on the horizon." The publisher made lasagna and brought a cooler full of alcohol. We all brought the side dishes, appetizers and dessert. We did a white elephant gift exchange (I walked home with the best gift). Steve had a bonefide Man Cave in his basement with working 8-tracks, poker and Foosball, all of which were put to good use. With only eight full-time employees plus spouses (no kids), it was a small crowd and we had a blast. All due respect to my former colleagues, this was the best office Christmas party I've ever attended.

First Lesson

Somewhere, in some photo album back in Virginia, my mother has a picture of either my brother or me on these very same cross-country skis . Family legends were born out of our annual trips to New Germany State Park in Maryland. At some point over the years, we took most of our family's best friends along. The Vaughters. The Knights. The Grosses. Sarah Quainton. We always stayed at the Casselman Inn and — ooohmyGawd — the bread. The bread! I can still recall its sweet yeasty goodness. I also remember the time Joshua Gross ordered cow brains off the menu. Sweetbreads. Who wouldn't want that. Bletch. There was the time my brother got lost in a snow drift after rolling off a sled (remember when it used to snow back east?) Then there was the time he split his head open on a door jam and gushed blood all over everybody for about an entire day. And, there was me and Molly Knight bombing or way down 'Devil's Run.' This narrow, winding, forested trail plummeted down a mountainside, dropping at its terminus into a highway of skier traffic, requiring an airborne, 90-degree left turn at the finish and careful avoidance of beginner skiers. All this occurred on skis two times longer than our bodies. Those trips were all about hot chocolate and trail mix and cold fingers, and despite my parents' grumblings over our move to the mountains, they can lay full claim to instilling in me a love of the Great Outdoors. Between those annual cross-country ski trips, our white water canoe and rafting trips and weekend hiking and camping adventures, I was hooked. Maybe we only did those trips because my family was on a budget and we couldn't afford the annual Vail ski vacation, but I don't regret it, not now. Back then, sure, I was looking for every thrill possible, and cross-country skis seemed kinds geeky. It was the 80s. I wanted nothing more than to be a ski bunny in neon, with a headband holding up my big bangs. Problem was, I didn't know how cool I was. Now I'm a Free-Heeler, which is cooler than skiing and snowboarding combined. Ask anybody. Tomorrow, Sawyer goes out for his first ski, and he's going to be initiated the same way I was: Heels free. Poles tall. And, skis far too long for his body.

(If you want to see the video of Sawyer trying out his skis at home for the first time, you have to go to Facebook. Couldn't get it to load here for some reason.)