Three Musketeers

Last year Tim and I went skiing in Switzerland for our honeymoon. My father in law Bruce was pretty much our personal travel agent/planner dreaming up our adventure. Everyday while Tim and I skied down the mountain, Bruce checked the web cams of Crans Montana looking for us. Rumor has it Bruce was even more sad than we were when our trip came to a close.
The self sacrificing souls Tim and I are, we agreed to repeat the adventure this year with Bruce. Are we troopers or what?


Most people think the first time I skied with Tim was in 2007. This photo documents otherwise.


Apparently I joined Tim and Bruce on the slopes of Kirkwood in 1985. A picture can't lie can it?

Off Road Fun

Sunday called for more rain, mud and fun.
Tim and I hit Anderson Truck Trail to play in the dirt.
I huffed and puffed and tried to keep up .
Tim has a bike with no gears and I still can't catch him.
Don't worry. I'll find a way to slow him down.
Homemade pizza and beer.
Clever me!!!!!
(well I must clarify I didn't brew the beer)



Shopping and Coffee

A normal Saturday. Coffee and Shopping. Some might even accuse us of having a manicure
(except it was black bicycle grease under the fingernails).
Jenny and Julie go shopping in the epicenter of fashion known as Ramona.
Socks for Tim

Believe it or not we were trying to go for a long bike ride. The weather was way beyond fickle. The sun would come out whenever we threatened to turn around and call it a day.

Tim was working and missed out on the fun. I was sure to bring him a souvenir (after testing them out myself.....nothing like a pair of dry socks for the trip home).


Julie models the new jacket.
The real plan was to ride to Dudley's Bakery in Santa Ysabel for a sweet treat. The weather diverted us. We had to settle for a cappuccino instead. We had to come up with a new route home as it started raining cats and dogs. We chose to ride by the Wild Animal park instead. It was such an adventurous day I expected to see some wild animals escape from the park

Fun Times

Hmm?
Maybe it's not just us gals on top of Mt. Laguna.






More Winter Memories

Brothers Pete and Tom blaze the trails.
Spring

The skating pond.
Snowmobiling.
More skating.

Winter Memories

Watching the Winter Olympics brings back memories of growing up in the north and having. Growing up in a small community gave kids lots of opportunities.

The Upper Pennisula had it's very own Olympics. My brother Pete, was the first in my family to make the team. He made the Nordic team and I was in awe. He was the endurance athlete of the family. He trained really hard. The coach told my mom she should encourage Pete to run. She was very supportive of this. On each trip home from town, when we were a mile from home my Mom would pull over and let Pete out so he could run home. Sometimes he hopped out readily and hit the road. Other days he fussed and my Mom had to use some of those parental psych tricks on him. Tom and I would vie for "shot gun" until Pete started running. We were happy to ride the last mile home in the Oldsmobile wagon.
Until race day.....when Pete took the stand. We were "darn" proud of him. He made the evening news that night. We were forever in awe. 25 years later I'm still motivated by that story. I can brag about all the Ironman finshes I want. If Mom pulled the car over on a cold day would I show my committment and run home?

There were cross country ski trails a mile from home. We could ski there. In fact the neighborhood kids had ski parties. The ski hill was 5 miles away. It was eqipped with a "high speed" tow rope and lights. I love skiing under the lights. Some of the areas pools have similar lighting and it makes me a bit nostalgic.


Silver Moutain Ski Area. Season Pass Cost $20


World Cup, Silver Mountain Cup. Really what's the difference. We think we are just like the pros on Wide World of Sports. My brothers get it right sporting their "Nubs Nob" ski area patches and showing their skis logos proudly. I'm manage to display my trophy but cover the patch and the logo.



I remember when my skis got too small and we traded them in for a bigger size. I told the sales person to make sure the next girl knew they had gold medal history. Despite the scratches and multiple rocked patches in the bases I thought they were more valuable than new ones.


My Grandma lived next door. We thought she had gone off her rocker when she called insitsing our dog "Moose" was running on the roof. Apparently the snow banks below gave Moose the confidence to climb from the house deck onto the garage roof.






Back to Silver Moutain in the days of bamboo.



Before break away gate, pole guards, shin guards, spandex, and helmets my Dad could really charge down the moutain.
It took me until I was 17, to catch my father. I was so proud.
At 33, I've come to terms with the fact he gave me the win.
Thanks Dad.



We had plenty of unstructured activity and opportunity to use our imagination.
I used to imagine I was an Artic Expeditionist.
This was the view from our living room window.
Lake Michigan or the Artic Ocean?





My sibling and Dad gave up ski racing long before I did.
It might be safe to say I suffered from some form of arrested development. I just couldn't stop.
I'm no longer ski racing, but I still have the yellow helmet.
Next week I'll put it to use.