Kevin is a talented skier. Talented isn’t even the right word. He is a bad-ass skier. He skis this for fun:

Goat, Stowe VT

Goat, Stowe VT

I don’t even look at that trail. When we pass by the entrance on my way to the green circles I shudder at the thought of getting caught on that trail.

Even though our skill levels vary greatly, Kevin and I both love skiing.  This past February, we were lucky enough to spend a week skiing in Vermont with Kevin’s parents.  It was my second favorite vacation I’ve taken with Kevin (you can’t really ever top Bermuda).

When we arrived in the little village of Stowe, Vermont, we checked into a lovely inn and settled in for the night. We awoke to this:


We picked the perfect week to ski.  It wasn’t crowded, we got great sun and snow, and we ate some scrumptious food totally guilt-free due to the insane amounts of exercise we were getting.

It was a rad trip. Kevin grew a mountain man beard which looks very good on him but apparently is insanely itchy.  Perhaps it was the itchiness that caused his skirmish with the diner waitress.  Apparently you *CANNOT* order pancakes (or anything else for that matter) if you show up to breakfast 3.5 minutes after the rest of your party.

One day, we doubled up on activity by skiing all day and snow-shoeing at night.  Our guide was a very zealous fellow who loved everything about everything.  He was a good type of guide to have when you’re hiking on snow uphill in the middle of the night in sub-zero temps.  He made it seem like we were winning the lottery with each step.  Everything was “Incredible!”


It was an incredible week.