The minute the work assignment landed, the gears were set in motion on a plan to fit a ski day into a business trip.
Denver in December. I’d done it before when I flew into Denver on a Thursday night, rented a car and stayed downtown, then hit the road early the next morning bound for Copper Mountain. I rented skis, met up with my cousin Tim, and had a chilly but bright day on some beautiful Rocky Mountain slopes. The crowd was light for a Friday, I recall.
This time around, I took a couple vacation days and flew out early on the Thursday before the weekend work assignment. I rented skis in the city — the guy at Christy’s picked out a perfect set of high-performance Völkls — then stopped for supplies at a Whole Foods before making my way to the home of Uncle Paul and Aunt Maureen, who had offered a standing invitation if I ever needed a place to stay in Denver.
A great family dinner with Paul, Maureen and my cousins was the perfect prelude to what was shaping up to be a magnificent ski day. Some snow was expected in the Front Range of the Rockies, and I was headed for Winter Park, which is only a 90-minute drive from Denver.