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Hello, all!
I have recently returned from a fabulous vacation- much needed- to one Steamboat Springs, CO.
Here are some interesting tidbits for all of you, by the numbers:
2: Number of times we (ie my family and me) went to the Old Town Hot Springs.
4: Number of times I tried (unsuccessfully) to climb to the top of a feature there, falling all four times backwards into a 10 foot deep pool.
7: Number of times (I think, at least) I went down one of the two slides- neither of which, by the way, has any light in it at all until the very end.
3: Number of days I skied.
5: Number of times I raced the NASTAR course on the last day, also number of runs in which I earned a silver medal (yay!)
1: Number of turns it took before I realized that the top half of a half pipe is freaking icy, and slalomed the rest of the way down- yes, I am a sorry chicken.

And the stuff that can only be described, not given in numbers:
Jumps, Bumps and Black Diamonds
So there's this lift, the Sunshine lift, and under it is a run called the Sunshine Lift Line. And after every lift support pole but...three, I think...there's a jump. So, of course, I considered it my bounden duty to help the growth of these fabulous works of snow by going off every one I could hit, every time we skied that run. And...I didn't crash once. Yay me! But I watched people crash, oh yes. And t'was funny.
On the first day, when the run we usually took (Tornado Lane) was getting icy, my parents and I decided we would get down to the Storm Peak Express via a black diamond run, which naturally had humonguous moguls on it. Now, only my dad skis moguls in our family- I stink at it and my mom's back cant' take it- so we watched Dad swishing down between these monster piles of snow, and admired one pile that, according to him, is actualy a rock.
We were standing on one side of the run, watching, when down comes this snowboarder on his behind. A snowboarder tearing down the hill is not an uncommon sight, nor is one sitting down. But doing both at once is to be considered quite an accomplishment, especially since it was followed by the boarder standing up and continuing down the rest of the slope.
Terrain Park Woes (Bok bok) and Collisions
Next to the NASTAR course and the half pipe, there are a series of terrain park jumps. Anyone who's seen such a thing knows what I'm talking about- large mounds of snow with smaller, sharp-edged mounds on top of them. The idea is that you ski or board off the smaller mound, get some air, and come down on the downhill side of the large mound, thus saving yourself from a hard landing. But anyone who rides up the Bashor lift a few times will see that its also possible to catch air from just going over the large mounds- what you don't see is how much, or how unexpected it can be.
My dad, ever adventurous, went off the first jump the way you're supposed to. I watched, saw no carnage, but chickened out anyways and skied down the side. I slowed down just long enough to say to him "Yes, I'm a bigger chicken than you" before going over the edge of the second of three jumps. I didn't catch much air, so I figured I'd just gather speed between jumps and go off the next one; nothing spectacular would happen. Well, I was wrong. I came tearing off the edge of the third jump, caught way more air than I expected or wanted, leaned back out of habit (bad) and hit the ground way off balance. I almost- almost- fell over backwards and yard saled. But I didn't, stood up straight, and skied into the lift line shaken but exultant.
This lift line was also the source of some amusement earlier, though not on my part. Twice- count 'em, twice- I collided with someone. The first time I had too much speed and too much confidence, tried to slide into the line before someone and ended up with them colliding with me instead. THe second time was not my fault, but far more entertaining: My ski caught on something sticking out of the snow and I fell over across three snowboards.
Yay for Spring Break, eh?

*No people were hurt in the making of this journal entry.