I know what I’m thankful for, and that’s the fact that Aaron and I are still alive. Here’s how the Thanksgiving weekend happened. (See Ayo’s blog for an alternative, but probably not as good, account).and here's the pics...
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Wed: Ayo flies in for about 7 hours of acclimatization. This is accomplished w/ Thai food and Japanese beer.
Thurs: Wow. Call time: 4 am. We (the All-Star Perfectos) leave the friendly confines of Denver for the harsh Rocky Mountains, whom we all know don’t fucking care. They’ll kill you. We drive to the base of Copper Mountain Ski Resort. The goal: ascend 2000 ft and 6 miles via cross-country skis to a virtually inaccessible cabin for a thanksgiving feast while carrying about 35 pounds of gear and food in sub-freezing temperatures. Certain death.
First we hike ½ mile while flipping off the shuttle bus that wouldn’t take us to where we needed to be. Then, the ski lifts that were supposed to take us 1000 ft up, were not working. Less than awesome. We now have to cross-country ski UP a ski run. Keep in mind that I only know how to snowboard and Aaron can count the number of times he has been skiing on one hand (he is also missing a thumb). After 45 minutes of sweating and cursing, we succeed in getting our skis on. This is followed by about 20 minutes of getting retarded: falling over, rolling around like a turtle, and making the mountains laugh at us.
About midmorning (we took no watches), we make our first step forward and up. We quickly find out that our sure-fire acclimatization plan for Aaron was not successful since he is hallucinating about polar bears and Scandinavian prostitutes. We trek on and almost lost our food when Aaron nearly fell off a rail-less bridge covered in 3 feet of snow (Aaron would have died also). Against all better judgment we pushed on.
After midday we reached the point of no return. No telling if we were going to find this mythical cabin or not, but we damn sure couldn’t go back now. Then the mountain got really steep….and we ran out of water….and the trail began to disappear into the snow…..and finally the sun began to go down. Lord knows I didn’t want to cuddle with Aaron in a sleeping bag/bivvy sack, so there was some concern.
With temperatures plummeting and Ayo plotting my assassination for dragging him along, we finally arrived at the greatest cabin I have ever seen. We would live. We quickly fired up the Franklin stove and cooked the most awesome thanksgiving feast possible with ground turkey and instant stuffing.
Well after dark a Yeti attacked the cabin. This actually turned out to be a crazy couple (also staying in the cabin) who had been snowshoeing through the dark, following our trail for a several hours. They were lucky to be alive. We shared our bourbon (just like the pilgrims and Indians) and we all gave thanks for not being dead and for not being OJ Chandler.
Fri: We rise early to begin our descent. Going up on cross-country skis, while tiring, is at least similar to walking. Going down on steep trails with 35 lbs on your back is disaster if your name is Ringo. I made up new curse words. Aaron helped me out by talking pictures of me as I writhed around in 3 ft of power on a 45 degree slope. He’s a piece of shit. I also hated the two snowshoers who followed us and tore up our nice ski-tracks and made our lives a living hell. There was a bit of frustration this day.
A positive of this leg of the trip was getting to ski down a mile of untouched powder on the unopened ski slope of Copper Mountain. Very boss. Victory was ours.
We then hike thru Copper resort where rich ski folks gawk at the freaks carrying funny ski equipment and huge packs. However, they were also impressed at the size of our huge steel balls.
We had some issues getting a hotel room to stay in Breckenridge, but once again, we played the huge steel ball card and there were no problems.
Sat: Early start to hit the slopes of Breck. I’m no expert snowboarder, but I felt like an X-games champion compared to those cursed skis. It even started snowing at lunch to give us powder in the afternoon.
Powder is pretty awesome until it closes I-70. However, the interstate was opened on the way to Denver, although that came with a 45% chance of death. Fortunately, the weight of our huge steel balls gave us traction, and the bourbon stilled Ayo’s nerves (definitely not driving), so that we escaped the mountains.
Back in Denver, we celebrated at the shittiest dive bar we could find. Bad idea. Cheap drinks are cool, but they couldn’t outweigh the toothless, gibberish speaking prostitute who kept trying to sell herself to us. I still feel nauseous.
Sun: Aaron is sent packing to the airport. Good luck getting those balls thru security.
ayo's account
http://dayglowayo.blogspot.com/
ayo's pics
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6 comments:
Yes, the huge steel balls required some explaining to the airport security dudes. But once I explained that we had just made the Rocky Mountains our bitch he let me pass on through.
Also, we had some awesome turbulance on the flight home. People were crying and screaming and even the navy dude sitting next to me was scared. But I didn't care. I had been much closer to dying on Thanksgiving. I already knew I was invicible =)
RAWR! Victory is yours! Glad you didn't die out there, or get swallowed up by an angry mountain. Your Thanksgiving was way more boss than mine.
Nice work. I have to say filtering vodka will smoking a cigar and playing with lighter fluid over hot charcoal is a nice way to die but X-country skiing is way more interesting. Next time I'm in!
Very awesome. You lose points for skiing UP the mountain...but your overall score remains mostly intact. Judges say...YOU WIN!
Oh hey, you forgot to mention the prostitutes...I mean "cigerettes"!
my name is ringo and i never post
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