Last Days in Colorado

Yesterday we decided to explore the big town of Fairplay. Fairplay is a happenin’ town of 675 people, and it has a small shopping district with some cute stores and hotels. Unfortunately, as we found after half of us piled into the van for some souvenir shopping, most of the stores were closed. Funny, people here apparently enjoy taking New Years Day off. Does no one care about the 15 tourists in town? Sheesh.

We did stop in at the Hand Hotel, which is purportedly haunted. As far as we could see, it is only haunted by four enormous and friendly golden retrievers. Though one of those retrievers was not in attendance; the manager said he was in time out. The hotel has a gracious staff, as they let us see almost the whole place. There is a breakfast room/sitting area at the back of the first floor, and it looks out over the South Platte River, now frozen and covered with a pristine white spread of snow, and gives a breathtaking view of the white-capped mountain range.

Most of the upstairs guestrooms were unoccupied, so we were also invited to take a look into any open door. The rooms have themes—Schoolmarm, Miner, Trapper. The Trapper room was a little questionable, what with the metal traps hanging on the wall and all—makes you wonder if the schoolmarm could resist such virulent, manly, slightly frightening décor. But then of course there was the Mattie Silks room, which we at first thought represented a wealthy older woman of another time. Then we noticed the “Soiled Doves of Colorado” poster, and we realized that Mattie was a very different sort of woman, though to be sure, her vocation may have made her both wealthy and older.

There was, in spite of the mass closures, a bead store open. It sells, as you might expect, beads, as well as jewelry and pottery and accessories and stuffed South Park characters. South Park, you ask? Well, Fairplay is in the middle of the South Park valley, and in any given artist’s shop, you will likely find a few South Park items from the animated show of the same name, offered for sale as a way to help pay the rent. Makes for an interesting mix sometimes.

We planned an afternoon trip to the town’s recreation center for a workout and a swim, until we realized again that, oh yeah, it’s New Year’s Day. Dang. We’re really not so good at this planning thing.

So the girls played in a previously built tipi, I took a walk, Darin and Brian talked politics, and we all ate too many cookies.

The most notable event of the day, in the end, was Brian’s trip with three teenagers to get fitted for ski gear. It’s cheaper to get it in Fairplay and take it to Breckenridge with you rather than getting the gear at the ski resort. And so, at 4:00 on New Year’s Day, the day after the teens mentioned earlier stayed up until 1 in the morning, Brian took them to try on ski boots and helmets. Have you ever taken a teenage boy to look for shoes that he needs but doesn’t particularly care about? Brian can only begin to describe the agony of the trip. And I don’t mean to imply it was only the male teen representative of the Quist family.

Departure for Breckenridge came bright and early the next morning, and the same teens were still not completely awake when the car carried them across the Hoosier Pass, and over the Continental Divide. This is an interesting passage, because on the northwest side (the Breckenridge side), there is quite a bit more snow than on Fairplay’s southeast side. It makes for a gorgeous descent into Breckenridge, which after all is a gorgeous little town.

Looking lively in the arctic cold.

After one trip down the hill in temps measuring 1 or 2 degrees above zero, everyone was awake. Allison and her cousin Zoe went to ski school for the day. I saved everyone’s sanity by staying off the slopes this time around. I have found in the past that, though I am a decent skier, I tend toward panic attacks about halfway down the hill. Brian will be happily shushing his way down the slope, only to find me halted at a flat spot, staring down the rest of the hill in despair. What I’m actually doing in that moment in visualizing the exact angle of the leg fracture I will be experiencing in another 100 feet. Then he spends a little time patiently coaching me down the hill. Upon stopping at the bottom, he’ll then make for the nearest chairlift before I have time to follow. So yeah, I spent the morning playing home base in the lodge, keeping a few seats at a table and offering hot chocolate to the frozen skiers as they came off the hill.

Andrew, Natalie and Iko had all skied previously. Brian thought he’d make it a more even match by renting a snowboard. He’d gone snowboarding once before, and he thought this would keep him from wanting to race ahead of the others. Well played, Brian. He estimates he fell down approximately 25 times. We have come to the conclusion that, if we are given the opportunity to re-do this trip, we will ski earlier so that the hot springs can come later to ease his aching bones. And the best part of that revised schedule would be that he would not be crippled by pain when we enter the minivan tomorrow for a 12 hour drive to Des Moines. I see a lot of driving in my future. Brian sees very little snowboarding in his future.

In the meantime, I had a hearty lunch with Julie, Darin and Mom in Breckenridge at a restaurant called Downstairs at Eric’s (you former Yaz fanatics can understand that I have had “Only You” and “Bad Connection” running through my head all day). Mom and Julie had gone to the Nordic Center in the morning to rent cross country skis and had a great time taking a trail through the hillsides. They didn’t even really mind the cold that much, but let’s just say the people who make those disposable hand-warmer thingies were making a fortune today.

The two pink coats head up the "magic carpet";
no vomit in sight.

At 3:30, ski school ended, and we went to see the newly-minted skiers. So far I know that the day was cold, that the lunch was pasta that Allison didn’t really care for, and that one girl in their class threw up. A memorable day to be sure.

Now it’s our most favorite time of all. Time to pack up the car for the drive home. Rummaging through ransacked bunkrooms, we have been trying to locate anything that belongs to any of the six people who will be embarking on the journey tomorrow. Goodness. How did one little vanload create this chaos of belongings? We can only wonder. But we look forward to the selfless volunteering of the younger Quists as we load up tomorrow. Yeah.

We will load up Brian (aka Aching Oldish Man), Iko (likely desperate to have some space from this crazy family), Natalie (still hacking but not as much as before), Andrew (looking forward to his last 2 days of togetherness with videogames before he gets back to school and swim team), Allison (looking forward to getting back to her natural position, ruling over us with an iron fist) and me (trying hard not to think about the dead Christmas tree standing in our living room). Happy trails.