A love letter to Belleayre Mountain

This is my happy face.

Maybe it is because this was the first place I ever truly skied.  Perhaps it is a result of the stunning panoramic views in every direction.  It may be because of the friendliness of every staff member I’ve ever encountered.  Or, it might be because of the all-things-considered reasonableness of the price of a lift ticket and rentals.  This past Sunday, the spectacular weather was definitely a factor.

Whatever it is, I absolutely love Belleayre Mountain.  If you know me, you are aware that my general expectation is not “perfection.” I actually find it to be a bit overrated as a measurement.  Yet, Sunday, I heard myself saying “perfect” an uncountable number of times.  It truly was a day of skiing that I will have a hard time ever matching, much less surpassing, regardless of how many seasons I revisit those slopes.

Why was it so special?  Well, the drive south was beautiful, as winter and spring continued to switch places for a few days.  Getting my equipment and lift ticket was a breeze, and I was on the chairlift within 20 minutes of parking my car.  The snow was soft, the sun was blazing and the sky was blue.  I was traveling light (sans boys), hanging with Aloysius and his next generation, and feeling absolutely giddy on sunshine and life.  To all of you who weren’t there – I’m sincerely sorry you missed the opportunity to feel the joy of gliding down a mountain with the warmth of the sun on your back.  Or the simple happiness of a tasty beer sipped al fresco midway down the slopes.  Bliss.

Upon my return to Albany, the only way I could possibly punctuate a day that glorious was with a terrific dinner at the Capital City Gastropub and my first TasteeFreez visit of the year.  It may not get any better than this, but, no worries, I’ll continue to keep trying.  Kisses – Silvia

That would be a sundae – with nuts.

What makes a perfect snow day?

Yesterday was the first snow day my district has had this academic year – and it was well worth the wait.  I understand that we don’t all have the luxury of a delayed start or the cancellation of our work day due to the weather and think you should know I am very appreciative of this career perk.  I was so very thankful for yesterday’s surprise (2″-4″ was the forecast, I’d say 6″ or 7″ was the reality) snow day that I just might send my superintendent a thank you note.  You know how I like to do that.  Or, as my snow day, cross-country skiing partner in crime suggested, perhaps I should send that note of gratitude to the superintendent of my children’s district for not giving them the day off.  I certainly have enough appreciation to spread it out, trust me.

As I spent my found day doing fun things, I realized that I had experienced a perfect snow day.  Here are the factors which led me to that ultimate conclusion:

• The day off was completely unexpected.  I would have been more than contented with a mere delay.
• Speaking of delays, the fact that the boys were delayed and I was off was an incredible gift.  We had an easy morning and then there was quiet.
• Coffee with my favorite fellow was another unexpected treat.
• Skiing with one of my best hardcore exercise girls at Capital Hills on a day with incredible light and eventual warm temperatures.  Spring skiing rocks!
• A terrific lunch at the golf course’s Club House.  Seriously, the food was really good!
• Getting my Saturday chores done a day early.  It almost feels like I was given 2 days!
• Afternoon coffee with my favorite fellow
• Making pizza with my boys
• A hot bath
• A reasonable bed time
  

  The secret to homemade pizza? A HOT oven.

I hope you were able to enjoy the recent (bonus) snowfall but, if you didn’t, I think I had enough fun for both of us.  You’re welcome!

Gloves are hand tissues and other confessions from a winter runner

I’m not the only one who uses my gloves to catch the drips from my nose during a cold run, am I?  Don’t leave me hanging out here, runner friends!  It’s not like I blow my nose with my favorite striped gloves, I save that for the hem of shirt, but in the winter when I run, so does my nose. C’est la vie.

Winter 2011/12 was most definitely the winter that wasn’t.  I managed to continue running outdoors during those crazy mild months, but I wasn’t certain the story would remain the same during a more typical upstate New York winter.  This year, the case has been proven – I am a four season runner and I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Running in the cold means slowing down, because of both the tightness of my muscles and the potential dangers of the terrain.  There are also layers involved.  Sometimes I feel as if I spend as much time suiting up, and eventually stripping down, as I do actually running.  Four layers of UnderArmour certainly keeps a girl warm, but it also occasionally makes me feel as rotund as a Russian doll.  This perception makes me want to run more miles – and consume vodka and caviar.

Often my speed picks up towards the end of my run as the promise of a hot shower nears.  That’s right, I said HOT!  The bliss of finally peeling off my post-run damp second (and third and fourth) skin to step into a steamy hot shower makes all of my efforts a winning investment.  The transition from legs burning, to calories burned, to near scalding shower water is one of my favorite sensations.

As the question of March entering as either a lamb or a lion is thrust at us all with today’s turn of the calendar, I can confidently say it doesn’t matter to me at all.  Either way, I’ll be layering and lacing up and hitting the streets.

Schooled on skiing

So cute!

I spent most of my childhood in a village nestled in a valley between two (smallish) mountains.  Each of these mountains was home to a (smallish) ski resort.  Despite the proximity of these places to experience skiing, I personally never availed myself of the opportunity.  Skiing was always a bit beyond the budget, a fact that I recognized and accepted without question.

My first real chance to ski was as a newlywed.  We were visiting with some friends in Vermont and the plan was to ski, with borrowed equipment, from the condo to the base of the hill where we would purchase our lift tickets and enjoy an afternoon of outdoor activity.  Sounds fine, right?  Skis over my shoulder, I joined the others for the walk through the parking lots of the condo complex.  We arrived at the place where we were to snap into our skis and I looked down that hill, the whole time thinking about my lack of health insurance, and just knew it wasn’t happening for me.  I happily went back to the condo and  read the afternoon away, relieved to have avoided the certainty of a broken leg.

Years later, I had a one hour private ski lesson at Bousquet Mountain in the Berkshires.  At that point I was a fairly accomplished cross-country skier and, other than the icy mound I had to face as I disembarked the chairlift, I was pretty comfortable negotiating my way down the hills after my lesson.  Skiing was a fun activity, but not something for which I felt a burning excitement.  I was content with the affordability of cross-country and I loved the fact that I could keep my equipment in my car and take advantage of the opportunity to ski at a moment’s notice.  Winters began to feel much shorter.

Other than a winter triathlon that I participated in (“competed” in being too strong of a word), I didn’t ski again until this year and, I want to tell you, something has changed.  Skiing suddenly seems like a lot of fun and I am very much looking forward to getting back on the slopes with the frequency allowed by my budget and calendar.  Maybe it’s all the running I’ve been doing, but I find downhill skiing to be easier than cross-country. The ability to turn as I glide down hill, as opposed to skiing down the hills at Albany Muni on long skis without real edges, makes controlling my speed much more manageable.  My legs are strong and although I expected to feel some residual soreness after my day at Belleayre, I didn’t have the slightest muscle tenderness to remind me of the fun I had enjoyed.

Speaking of enjoyment, Aloysius and I brought along our generation next boys and planted them in Kids Camp for the day.  It was an investment ($100 + lunch), but we enjoyed knowing they were getting some quality instruction (2 to 1 ratio with the instructor) while we were exploring the mountain.  We had a great view of their activities from the lodge, beers firmly in hand, and they seemed to be having a good time together.  As far as the little guys enjoying the whole skiing thing, the jury is out on that.  I can tell you they probably had more fun than their teacher who noted that although the boys might be the best of “vacation buddies,” they certainly weren’t the best “learning buddies.”  What can I say – they’re lively boys.  They’ve got years ahead of them to learn to love to ski.  Trust me.

Gala is my 2nd favorite word for “party.”

A close second, I might add.  Just for the record, my most favorite is “fete,” but enough of language.  Here are the pictures which tell a thousand words!  Seeing as how everyone at the fete event looked like a million bucks, let me add a few additional words of the text variety:

• This was a really fun crowd with many familiar faces.  Not one person declined to pose for a picture and I didn’t hear a single complaint while I worked the crowd.
• The staff at the Hilton Crowne Plaza Albany Hotel were all professional and pleasant.
• It was fun shooting pictures of some of the same people from Thursday’s event.  It didn’t feel indulgent or redundant – the faces you see in both photo sets are the faces of the folks who make the restaurant industry happen.
• The Times Union merged my two galleries with another set of photos taken during Friday’s Grand Tasting event – you’ll know mine by the credit in the caption.
• Personal shout out to a former student and his lovely fiancee* ~ It made my night to see you!  And I told you that you weren’t a Republican – thanks for listening.

*two French words in one post – Mon dieu! That’s 3…

Cross country love

Trails beckon…

Despite the fact that the conditions were dangerously icy yesterday and I fell multiple times, jamming my thumb really hard once and landing on my ass hard enough to create a bruise that I almost felt compelled to name, I absolutely LOVE cross-country skiing.  If you haven’t given it a try because you mistakenly believe it to be for old, slow people, you, my friend, are sadly mistaken.  We’re at the point where we need a new snowfall to get the conditions back to where they had been for the past couple of weeks, but my own skis are in my car for the duration.  There is no better time to be had than tooling around Albany Muni Capital Hills with a couple of friends and a flask filled with homemade limoncello.  That is upstate winter living at its finest!

View from a lower trail

Snow goddesses abound!

Spectacular sunsets, too!

Holidaze 2012…

A dozen images, 12 words, one great Christmas season.

steamy

hot

radiating

candlelit

majestic

lexi

apples

joy

silvery

velvety

glittering

shiny