So it Begins...and What a Beginning!

It's time.

The day began with a 3AM alarm, and a pitch black drive to CVG.

Even at 4 AM, I saw numerous people I knew at the airport. Cincinnati, eh? The flight was on time, but you get what you pay for with Frontier. Plastic molded seats with no padding, a reading light that didn't work, and no possibility of sleep. Oh well.

Denver, and Payless rent a car was surprisingly smooth. Luckily I had done my research on how they try to stick you with extra fees, which I think I avoided. I was a bit sleep deprived. So, me and my little Hyundai Elantra headed out of Denver into the mountains, despite warnings from the rental woman: "You'll really struggle in those mountain passes. Don't you want an upgrade to a six-cylinder?" Nope.







I was given an order to stop at the infamous Gunsmoke Truck Stop to buy mesh trucker hats. When in Rome, right? But even infamous truck stops have amazing views.




Which brings me to the part of the trip I had lost the most sleep about, believe it or not. The infamous Monarch Pass -  the Colorado pass with the highest occurrence of accidents. Luckily, I had a sunny day just above freezing, and it was a piece of cake.




Legend has it that people drive up to the pass, park, and ski off into the backcountry. I didn't believe it. I was wrong.



From Monarch, it was a fairly easy drive the rest of the way to Crested Butte, which didn't look like much, as you head up a lovely, but unremarkable valley...and then you round a bend, and are greeted with this:



I rolled into town, mouth agape, and head spinning. Everything looks like this, everywhere you turn.





My brother, Geoff, met me on the street. It was a beautiful thing. He and our host, Johnny Seale, already had a table secured at a favorite pub.



After lunch, we headed up to the mountain to get our lift tickets and equipment for tomorrow's main event. There's something both badass and beautiful about the base area of a great resort. And the views...



It had been a long day, and going from essentially sea level to 9200 feet above sea level in only a few hours, at age 45, does some pretty unpleasant things to your body. I felt crappy after running around the resort, trying on gear, etc. Luckily, a town like Crested Butte is well-prepared for this common issue, so Geoff and I both spent some time at the oxygen bar at the Sea Level Spa. Oxygen is a miracle. 20 minutes later, and I felt like an absolute champ for the rest of the evening.



... not good enough to want to take full advantage of Colorado's kindest...



...but plenty good enough to partake of possibly the best pizza I've ever had at Secret Stash, a Crested Butte legend.



We followed our guide, Johnny, to Kochevar's Gaming Saloon, an ancient miner bar, afterward, which seemed like a lot of fun, but I was too exhausted to enjoy it fully. I had a PBR, and three waters, and begged off, walking the dark, icy streets under an impossibly vivid starry sky to our log cabin just off the main drag.

Tomorrow is the main event, and the alarm goes off in less than eight hours. I'm ready. I'm nervous. I'm ready. I'll let you know how it goes. Wish me luck.