When we got to the mountain in the morning (after I waited a gazillion minutes for Steve to exit the condo), Steve made a little discovery. He had no helmet, no hat, no goggles. So he skied in his ratty baseball hat and my cute goggles with the pink polka dots. This finished off his fashionable look of blue jacket and brown ski pants.
We saw Paauulll who acknowledged Steve by name and to me said, "Hello!" Whatever. We only took one run through the terrain park where Bob wanted to watch the "village idiots." One of them became some orthopedic surgeon's wet dream as he came down the trail in a sled.
It was 60 on the sunny Lido deck behind the Chardonnay Chalet where Steve grilled up burgers that have been sitting in the freezer since an April tailgating session.
We'll be back after Thanksgiving with my cousin and her boyfriend. New blood!
