Epic. Epic. Epic.

Tim and I chose Switzerland for our honeymoon. It did not disappoint. 6 days of skiing in the Alps: who could want more? Well....we could. We didn't want to come home. Although I must admit my legs were tired, but my legs are always tired, so why not ski some more.
Special thanks to Tim's Dad, Bruce who researched everything for us. Travel agent extraordinaire and to my mother in law Cindy, who told me to be sure to drink the milk there. She said it was the best and she was right. They say the milk is better because the cows graze on the mountainside and eat herbs all summer....whatever it sure was good. Tim says he likes it even better with Swiss Cocoa. Yummy. It's even better consumed after shredding for hours in fresh powder. One complaint Tim had was the limited selection of fresh bread served daily at the Inn we stayed at. Geez could we have a few more choices.

Tim and I had many adventures while skiing in Switzerland. It is very different than skiing at a resort in Michigan that has 20 chair lifts to service 450 ft of vertical. The resort spans across multiple towns. It has the coolest little restaurants and warming huts randomly all over the mountain.

One day it snowed so much and the wind blew so hard the lifts didn't run. Tim and I spent the day walking around town. We tried a snowshoe run but it was cold and snowing so hard I had to wear full ski garb....try running with that much gear on. So it was a snowshoe trudge with great scenery. We were the crazy Americans that day at breakfast. We wolfed down our food and hurriedly headed out the door. We were giggly with anticipation of fresh tracks. We could hear cannons blasting the avalanches. The inn keeper stopped us as we headed out the door. "Non," he said and pointed to where the gondola should have been hanging. The lifts didn't run that day but we knew when they did it would be EPIC.

The next day the lifts opened late and it did not disappoint. For the life of me I could not understand why my powder hungry husband was acting so strange. He kept stopping and consulting the map and going to areas everyone else was going. Why did he insist I trade in my race skis for fat boards if this was how we'd roll? I didn't get it. Tim sensed my frustration and said "You lead." Great. I saw a faces descending with one set of tracks and a cat track intersecting. I said it was time to point my skis down the mountain. It was probably the most fantastic run of my life. Perfect pitch. Perfect powder. The series of faces just kept going and intersecting the cat tracks. What I thought to be cat tracks at least. At some point we had left the "resort." Things aren't marked so well in Europe. The cat tracks we were now crossing were actually a road but there was so much snow on it you'd never know. Two poles like the ones they use to mark the trails stuck up at the bottom. Tim boarded to the side. I thought I would do a little hop off the trail and on to the cat track. Tim was all smiles from the run down and I was really proud of my powder nose. Careful he said....turns out the poles were marking a flat garage roof covered with several feet of snow. I had to turn and wade back through the snow. I wonder what those home owners thought of the tracks. It soon became evident that we were no longer in an area serviced by chair lifts. We took off our gear and started hiking. After a bit of a walk, we encountered some builders and asked about a chairlift. They gave us directions to the nearest bus stops as we were 2 kilometers away from the lift. I don't think Tim was so happy with me at this point in time. I tried all sorts of tactics. We are earning our turns, epic powder, blah, blah, blah. I conceded to follow the trail map for the rest of the trip. In fact I just followed in his tracks. I wasn't sure he'd bring me back to the U.S. if I pulled another stunt like that. It wasn't until later in the week when I regained some leverage. Tim led us down a run that we eventually hiked back up. It turned out to be closed due to an avalanche. That was a long hike up.

This is the dog I almost smuggled home. Aqua was his name. He basically sat in the doorway when skiers returned from the mountain. If he was motivated he would move to the foot of the stairs in the evening so people would pet him on their way to and from dinner. He was sooo cute. I am going to get a dog just like him someday. I know he'll be too big, fat, and lazy to run with me but he'll be great to rest my feet on when I finish running.

I should have brought a snorkel the snow was so deep. I have to admit I was a little worried if I fell I would have to swim out.

Epic. Epic. Epic.


Aqua the Bernese Mountain Dog said...


beth said...

AHHH! i am so jealous. i grew up skiing and love it and in the past 2 years have made no time for it. makes me sad.

looks like you guys had an amazing celebration to kick off one great marriage!
congrats...now get back on your bike!