To infinity, and beyond…

Ever get super bored on the weekend and wish that you had something epic to do? Me too. That's why, after literal months of ying-yanging around with what to do over our long weekend, SB and I decided to pack our bags and hit the road down to the Alps (Garmisch) for a totally spontaneous ski trip. And before you ask, yes, I am still in awe of the fact that I'm able to say something like that (#luckygirl).

Now, I used to think very highly of my ski skills, but that was before the arthritis kicked in. I learned in the Rockies and definitely considered myself to be a bit of an adrenaline junkie. As far as runs go, greens were blah, blues were fun (as long as I got to jump and ski through the trees), and blacks were a challenge, but a welcome one. I was really looking forward to hitting the slopes. And then I realized that I hadn't been skiing in about 8 years, have dislocated my bad knee several times in that range of time, and my good knee has also gone bad. I was a bit anxious, but let me give ya'll a brief rundown of how things went:

After waiting in line to park the car, parking and waiting the 25+ minutes it took SB to get his snow gear on and ready to go, waiting an additional 20 minutes or so to get our lift tickets (note, it was 1045 and they offered a reduced price pass for 1100 and later, but refused to give it to us unless we waited in line again), waited another 10 minutes in line to get into the gondola (which ended up being a rather uncivil pushing and shoving for space… but maybe I'm just over-accustomed to skiing in America where there is someone helping you do everything), we finally made it to the middle of the mountain. We then had to get in another ~~line~~ mad crush of peeps on skis all fighting for a space on the chair lift. I kid you not, skiing at Garmisch is some sort of survival of the fittest game.

Anywho, skiing on the Alps is definitely different from skiing in the Rockies. At least on the day that we were there. The snow had been thoroughly carved out with little to no powder. This made my arthritic knees less than happy and after two tiny little runs and one full run down the back side of the mountain, I was perfectly content to stake out a spot at one of their outdoor bars and stuff myself with beer, bratwurst, and a quick cappuccino… you know… for stamina… because… coffee.

Let me tell you, the cappuccino was easily the most disgusting cup of coffee I've ever had the displeasure of consuming, despite the addition of approximately 3 tablespoons of sugar, but Germans have definitely got this whole drinking and skiing thing figured out. I felt great for the first half of my next run, but when we took a wrong turn and ended up on a cross country run in our downhill skis, I was basically over it. Cue more beer and a quick rest before heading back to the car to take photos of the breathtaking surrounding while SB took another 30 minutes to get back out of the earlier-donned snow gear. Dudes… they take forever to get ready, amiright?