Today, I thought I would make my one and only descent down Aspen Mountain – by foot. Why by foot, you ask? Why not by skis (like every other adventure-loving, athletic person), you ask?
Well, for me, skiing is akin to suicidal ideation. I’m NOT a skier. No way. No how. In fact, I’m the anti-skier. I would be happy and content if I never had to contemplate skiing ever again.
On that note, I was just thinking that it sure is great to be contemplating NOT skiing versus Chemo Sobby. Silver Lining!
Well, I didn’t realize quite how long of a trek the descent down the mountain is (4.7 miles, not counting getting lost).
My vision of strolling down the mountain was clearly a delusion of the uninitiated.
Along the route, I met muscle-rama-man and muscle-rama-dog. They were coming up what appeared to be a fun trail (off the beaten path, I might add). When I inquired about the trail, he said, “Blah-blah-blah-easy-turn-blah-blah-and that will get you down the mountain.” I was too affected by the altitude and ok, let it be said, awe-stricken by muscle-rama-man’s muscles to listen to the logistics of getting myself off of Aspen Mountain.
I thought: “I’m done with treatment. I’m overzealous. Why not try an adventure?”
Well, after two slip-in-slides down said adventure trail (turns out it was a F-bomb black diamond!), I found myself at the mainstream path. However, thanks to chemo brain, I couldn’t remember which direction muscle-rama-man told me to go.
I took Yogi Berra’s line “When you get to the fork in the road, take it” literally. Right? Left? Right? Left? I turned Right. As I ascended (up was NOT the direction I intended to go!), I finally reached a crest that overlooked the trail I was meant to be on. Ohhhhhh, I chose the wrong direction.
So, back down the hill I went.
Then, I noticed the time. WTF? The HOTY (still the Husband of The Year) and I had to be at a lunch in less than 45 minutes…and so I had to R-U-N.
Yes, that’s right, I’m done with radiation for a whole 5 days and I found myself running down Aspen Mountain. Ding-flippin’-dong. Where, oh where was my pace car? When on earth am I going to learn my lesson?
On my way down, I turned one of the 1200 corners and found what appeared to be an art installation. Look at these colorful, interestingly displayed skis, I thought. Beautiful, I thought. However, upon closer inspection, this “installation” is actually supposed to be a deterrent to going off the cliff. Yes, the cliff.
WTF? Really? How on earth do I get myself into these circumstances?
I ended up sliding down the mountain, wiping out right in front of the Gondolas. It wasn’t pretty. A lot of F-bombs were dropped.
BUT, I made it to the lunch on time and was so very happy to be laughing at myself on the side of the of a beautiful mountain on a beautiful day instead of being in a chemo clinic. What a beautiful Silver Lining (even though I can’t walk and can barely lift my head off the pillow)!
Being in a good frame of mind helps keep one in the picture of health.
~Author Unknown
That was hysterical, especially the art installation. I hope your anit-gravity muscles heal quickly!
That was hilarious!!! So great about the running. It must have felt soooooo good to be alive!! -and all those rippling muscles on muscleman – woohoo! Take it to the limit! Even if you can't lift your head off the pillow! ha ha ha… You sound so grateful in this post, Hollye.
Gone down Aspen mountain myself many times, but with my skiis on. While I tried to ski it I usually just survived it making face plants, yard sales, and general "Oh poor me falls". Good skiing was at the top. Getting down was always a challenge at the end of the day. Ah, but that at the end of the day there was "Little Nells". Aspen is an amazing place to visit, and I'm glad you had a chance to do so, but stay OFF the double black diamonds!
Thanks for the laugh out loud! xo
Thank you so much for sharing this! You have brightened my day!
And you have brightened mine with your comment! Thank you!