48 hours in Vegas felt like 4 days. We packed about as much fun as you could into 2 days, and somehow I managed to walk away with a little extra cash. Despite getting about 5 hours of sleep in two days, I wasn't as thoroughly destroyed as expected, but it sure was nice to get my normal 45 minute nap on the bus ride this morning.
Things are starting to return to normalcy.
8 of us hit Vegas in full stride, with the party really ramping up when the European contingency of Weber & Scharf hit the scene. It seemed everyone had a good time, and I think everyone miraculously made their flights out early Sunday morning. The rumblings of the last pack of us to leave was "this should be an annual thing", to which everyone agreed.
Davis booked his return through Denver to get a day in the "pow pow" (a term the locals use to refer to powder that intrigued Davis), so we headed up Monday morning to Winter Park to make some turns. I quickly fell in love with weekday skiing, no lines, no traffic and untracked runs everywhere.
It was about 3 runs into the day when Davis skied up to me in an somewhat exacerbated manner and raised the proverbial white flag. Requesting something "less tight" and more open than the gladed run off the 12,000 foot peak I had taken him down. Fair request I suppose. After that, we found some more Davis-able runs to let him get into his comfort zone a bit.
About 12:30 he posed the seemingly simple question of "Don't you ever eat or drink?"
My response was simply, "No."
He shook his head and said "I knew you were going to say that."
But I made an exception and we took a break to grab some food on the slopes. After Davis got a break he deemed long enough, we headed back out to shred some gnar on the back of Vasquez Ridge. I was shocked (and pleased) to find untracked powder at 3 p.m.
Seriously, an untracked run at 3 p.m. This working stuff is for the birds.
After that we made our way back to the car and headed home. A quick shower, some Pasta Jay's for dinner with Jill and Davis was on his way back to the Razorback country.
I wonder if he'll ever come back and ski with me again....