What I learned after skiing five straight days last week with my fourteen year old son and my wife in Montana.
First, as I get older, I don’t get better on skis. But as 14 year old’s get older, they do get better. Go figure!
Second, Montana beer is great beer. And it’s better than great after that first day of fighting moguls on black diamond runs from the top of Red Lodge Mountain to the chalet. Trust me. 57 year old legs and thighs fairly burn after the first three or four turns at 9,000 feet but after two Glacier Ales at the local pizza parlor (Pizano’s: great pizza and fantastic staff), you forget the pain. Honest.
Third, my 2008 Pacifica (which I just bought with 61,000 miles on it to replace my 2005 Pacifica with 160,000 miles) has the same flaw that the 2005 version of the van had: It hates altitude to the point where it blows its coolant cap and dumps anti-freeze all over the parking lot. You’d think a vehicle that, when new, commanded a $40,000 price tag (not what I paid, trust me!) could handle altitudes commonly found in the American West. Here’s a tip for you Pacifica owners: Carry an extra cap and a gallon of anti-freeze with you anytime you go above 4,000 feet. You won’t regret it.
Fourth, when your wife suggests that she’s just fine gliding down the greens and blues at a ski hill, leave it at that. I followed this line of logic on this year’s sojourn to mountains and guess what? The arguments were nil!
Fifth, 15 inches of mountain snow is still 15 inches of snow. Add to that, the steepness of the bowls at Bridger Bowl and you have the makings of more muscle pain and agony between your thighs and calves. Again, don’t bother asking the 14 year old whether his thighs are on fire after a day of black diamonds and bumps: He’s oblivious, immortal, as only 14 year old boys can are.
Sixth, hot tubs were likely invented by skiers. Old skiers. And they work.
Seventh, when you refill the coolant tank in your 2008 Pacifica after the cap has gone kaput, do it when the engine is COLD! That’s what the little fill level line is for. Not following instructions leads to two things: No heat in the car and a very serious rise in the heat gauge until you’re smart enough to shut the car off, let the engine cool down, and then fill the coolant tank to the proper level.
The eighth lesson I learned while skiing happened at Moonlight Basin, the newer, cheaper, less-well-known sister hill to Big Sky. Never, never keep skiing on a black diamond run after you’ve lost a ski, especially if you’re surrounded by trees. The result? You take a nice header avoiding a pine and smack your shin with the trailing ski. Metal edges are made out of metal for a reason.
Skiing in the mountains is as close as I’m ever going to get to sky diving. But I’m OK with that, and that’s the ninth thing I learned while out in The Treasure State: Be happy with who and what you are and don’t worry about things you haven’t done or may never get to do. The guy who organizes the annual Ski Hut excursion from Duluth to Bozeman, Montana, Wes Neustel, taught me that. Wes is still downhill skiing, in the mountains, at 92 years old. I don’t think he’s all that into hang gliding or sky diving. That Wes is steady and true on his skis, even into his tenth decade of life, seems like a great life lesson to me.
And finally, I learned that, even if the wallet is a bit thin on cash and things aren’t going exactly how you thought they should, a week with your wife and your son, skiing the Big Skies, is a good break from real life. Thanks, Rene’ and Jack for putting up with a tired, cranky old judge skiing on borrowed skis…
Peace.
Mark
A couple cold beers and a hot tub works after a day at Lutsen too.
No doubt. Though the mountains are the mountains and Lutsen, well, it’s not the mountains!