Skiing With The Kids
Episode 2: March 2024
Can we talk about skiing? Some people love it, some people hate it, and some people are so worried about falling that they won’t try it. My husband and I reside firmly in the first category. I grew up skiing with my extended family on the East Coast, navigating from ice patch to ice patch in West Virginia and Pennsylvania. Michael grew up skiing with family and friends in the Rockies, enjoying soft snow and sunny skies. We first skied together when I was 20, in Colorado, and we’ve been a team ever since.
We both ski assertively (or, at least as assertively as two Texans can pretend to ski). If you want to find me on the mountain, I’ll most likely be in the trees. The snow is usually better, and the trees don’t move, so they aren’t anywhere near as dangerous as the people on the slopes. If my husband had his way, he’d most likely be somewhere steep or in the moguls. Luckily, there are plenty of double black and off-piste runs that combine both, so we can both happily ski together, doing our favorite things.
Because skiing is something we enjoy doing together, we wanted our kids to be skiers as well. We had visions of a happy family of four weaving in and out of the crowds, laughing and making great memories. So we started them fairly young (at 4 years old). And, it was awful in almost every way. I vividly remember them screaming and crying in the rental shop, because the ski boots were too hard to put on. And then the boots were too uncomfortable to wear. Once we moved past those outbursts, we got to hear about how the jackets were uncomfortable. And the goggles made it hard to see. And they were too cold. And then they were too hot. And skiing was hard. And they were tired of falling. And they were tired of getting back up. It was a continuous barrage of whining that sucked most of the enjoyment out of the whole trip. Which is a tough pill to swallow, when you look at what has happened to lift ticket prices in the USA over the last few decades.
But, we pushed through. Nothing worth having is easily acquired, so we went back again the next year. This time armed with the knowledge that it would probably be rough and unpleasant, that we should make sure the kids practice-wear all of their clothes before we leave, and that we should definitely sign the kids up for lessons with someone more suited to help them learn (and to field their complaints). That trip was slightly better than the first, though still a far cry from the “perfect family ski vacation” in our fantasies. But since our goal with our kids (and each other!) is progress, not perfection, we kept it up; following the same routine, each year was an improvement.
This year, we decided to take our kids skiing over their Spring Break (which was the first time we’ve ever traveled with our kids during their Spring Break). They were ecstatic, because literally anything would be better than the way they usually spent their Spring Breaks; cooped up in my husband’s office while he works. We flew into Gunnison, CO on a direct flight from Houston. Magically (it seems), everything was on time and hassle free… outside of our Uber to the airport. It was a Tesla, with a battery range of 25 miles and a distance to travel of 25 miles. Our driver assured us he’d get us there, and he did; though he had to call AAA to get himself towed from the departures drop-off to a charging station. After arrival in Gunnison, we picked up groceries on the way to Crested Butte, and then spent the rest of the day drinking water. The base of Crested Butte Mountain is at 9,375 feet, so altitude sickness is a real possibility, especially for the kids. Water (not alcohol) and rest are the best ways to combat the possibility. The next day (our first full day in Crested Butte), we did what we have made a tradition for all ski trips: Not ski. We’ve found that doing so gives the kids time to acclimate to the altitude, as well as to acclimate to the idea of wearing heavy jackets and uncomfortable boots, and to working hard getting up and falling down all day. We usually fill the day with a big breakfast, sledding and snowball fights, and walking around town.
The next several days were full of skiing, however. The boys were in lessons for all but two of those days, and Michael and I skied steep, bumpy, and tree-filled runs for all but two of those days. For the two days that the four of us were together, we had the kids follow us to the parts of the mountain we enjoy, that we knew they could ski (the blue runs off of the East River and the Paradise lifts), and even tricked them into doing their first and second black runs. Although they were afraid, and may have repeatedly yelled, “WHY did you take us here!?!” while on the run, they were incredibly proud of themselves when they finished (and didn’t hesitate to brag about having done them to anyone who would listen).
In the evenings, we either went out to our favorite restaurants, or enjoyed nights cooking dinner in. As far as going out, our absolute favorite restaurant in Crested Butte is Sunflower. It is an excellent farm-to-table restaurant, owned by the incredibly kind and friendly Natalie and Chris. We unknowingly and accidentally followed Natalie around Crested Butte for years; from the Ice Bar, to Timberline, to Lowbar, always pleasantly surprised to see her in another place, at another time. When we found out that she and her husband were opening Sunflower, it has been a go-to spot for us every single time we are in Crested Butte. The food is always delicious, the service is spectacular, and the smiles are always welcoming. Some of the other restaurants we went to this trip are Soupcon: a French Bistro with a fixed course menu most days, but who just opened Miette on Mondays and Tuesdays as an a-la-carte option (we elected to go a-la-carte); Slogar: a family style fried chicken joint that is always a crowd pleaser; and Secret Stash: some of the best pizza we’ve had, in Crested Butte or otherwise. We make sure, in all cases, to book early dinners (between 6 and 7pm), because skiing all day is exhausting, and the yawns start early.
Before we knew it, it was time to pack away our long underwear, rest our legs and lungs, and fly back to Houston. While there were still a decent number of complaints from the kids, this year of skiing was fun. For all of us. Which is the first time I can actually say that. So, I’m already looking forward to the slopes next year.