For the third winter in a row, we returned to Crested Butte for Christmas skiing. We hit the road Friday afternoon right after school, leaving at 3:30 p.m., and spent the night at the Hyatt in Amarillo. Along the way, we tried a new Greek restaurant, Hibiscus Café, in Wichita Falls. The wait was a bit long—even with an advance order—but the food was good.
After another full day of driving, with stops at Hive in Trinidad and City Market in Gunnison, we finally arrived at our condo around 7 p.m. We stayed in the Columbine Condominiums, a true ski-in/ski-out setup perched above the Red Lady Lift, with a direct view of the lift from our balcony. I had been looking forward to this ideal ski accommodation for a long time, and it did not disappoint.
Our condo had a skylight above Norah’s bed. On clear nights, we lay beneath it, gazing up at the stars. Norah saw her very first shooting star. We also squeezed in a relaxing evening in the hot tub.
During our stay, the snow on the mountain slowly retreated. Locals said it was the worst snow condition in the past 40 years. With limited runs open, we adjusted our expectations and focused on skill-building instead. I worked on carving turns, while Will practiced skiing backward.
For five overlapping days with the Vehiccione family, we skied and sledded together. The kids came up with endless ideas for dramatic wipeouts on the local sledding hill, filling the air with laughter. We also shared a dinner at Bonez, a Mexican restaurant, one evening.
The forecast promised snow on Christmas, but it arrived as a mix of rain and snow instead. We decided to take a break from skiing and hike the Cement Creek Trail. After Norah complained about how easy it was, we switched to the Caves Trail. The hike was treacherous, with slick ice and steep terrain leading up to the rock formations. We returned muddy, our ski gear thoroughly baptized by the trail.
On Saturday night, December 27, we were finally rewarded with eight inches of snow. Sunday morning delivered a joyful first hour of fresh powder skiing.
Monday morning, we woke up at 6 a.m., left the condo by 7, and arrived home at 9 p.m.—tired, happy, and carrying another beautiful ski memory to add to our books.
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