The great Spring Break Trip of 2007 -
Spring Break took the whole family to one of my personal favorite places on planet Earth, Taos, New Mexico. The Taos Ski Valley is nestled snuggly in the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. I made sure that I mentioned the mountain range since I said that we were going to the Rocky Mountains in my last post. Of course I was correct by my mother who not only knows what mountain ranges are in New Mexico, but could also play Trivial Pursuit professionally.
After work on Friday, we packed up the Chevy Venture and headed West on Hwy 71 to start the big trip. Accompanying the trek was my sister’s family and my parents. Everyone in their own vehicle . . . two mini-vans and the Toyota Avalon.
I once went on a high adventure trip to Canada with the Boys Scouts. We hiked and portaged the head waters between US and Canada. It was the best, hardest and most demanding thing that I ever had the chance to do. On that trip we had an instance where one of the guys in our party was lost for 24 hours in the vast expanse of the open wilderness. I’m not talking about a State Park with trails and park rangers. I’m talking about the wilderness, where if you don’t have a map and a compass your in dire straights. Fortunately, we found him, but Allen Spelce, one of the assistant scout master and master adventurer commented that every trip has an epic and the temporary loss of one of our crew was the epic for that particular adventure.
Long story short . . .Too late! The epic of this particular adventure/road trip, was the puke that kept coming out of my sons mouth from the Northern flat plains of Texas to the might Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. We aren’t really sure what happened, but we do know that there was a little bug going around before we left. I’m sure taking your child up to the mountains in a low oxygen environment doesn’t help any. This unfortunate turn of events brought the trip to a standstill in Clovis, New Mexico where we stopped into the local emergency room for a Tootie once over. (See photo bellow). The hospital wasn’t exactly primitive . . . at least there was a defibulator in the corner and not just a bunch of batteries in series with jumper cables but it certainly wasn’t Seattle Central either.
The great thing about small town hospitals is that the competition is low. There were two police officers outside the emergency room when I walked up. I asked them if the emergency room was open and they directed me down a dark hall toward a door with light creeping out beneath it. I felt like I had just walked into a Stephen King movie directed by Kubrick. The staff ushered us straight into an examination room and started Tristan’s work up. The nurse was really nice and very understanding of our situation of being on the road. Our doctor looked like she just stepped off the set of Northern Exposure and I think that I even saw her on the slopes later that week. We got the canned response to our baby’s situation. “He has a virus and it will just have to run its course. Give him plenty of fluids and Tylenol to control the fever . . . oh and we can give him a suppository for the nausea.” So in the late evening in the emergency room in Clovis, New Mexico Amber and I learned how to put something up our kids bum! We haven’t gotten the bill for the visit yet, but they better not have charge me extra for the suppository instructions . . . that should be free! Sick baby or not, we headed North West and on to the mountains.
We arrived in the Taos Ski Valley late in the afternoon on Sunday. Tristan was doing better during the day but was still having problems if he laid horizontal for too long. We had just enough time to inspect the condo and unload the cars before the sun when down. Then it was dinner time and early to bed for a full week of skiing.
That night Tristan christened the bed, pillows and sheets that he was sleeping on, so we didn’t get too much sleep. Amber and I decided to sleep in and give Tristan some time to heal. After a nice shower and some breakfast Amber and I, along with my mom and Tristan head to the ski base to rent our skis for the week. Then we headed back to the condo for lunch and Amber, (who is the most understanding wife EVER) let me put on my ski clothes and hit the trails for a really good first half day of skiing.
The weather in Taos was great although it would have been better if it had snowed like 2 feet the day before we got there or would have dropped like 6 inches in the middle of the week. The sun was out everyday and we were able to wear light jackets and minimal under garments. I even did a little skiing without my gloves because I was taking so many pictures.
So we didn’t let Tristan steel all the medical attention for the whole trip. After we got to the condo on Sunday my mom was saying that she didn’t feel very good, but that she just thought that it was the altitude. Well she never really did recuperate and even got a complementary ride off the mountain by the ski patrol. I’m kind of ticked off about this because for years when I was younger and we would go skiing, my parents would never let us take a snowmobile tour. But my mother got to ride one down the mountain. But I’m sure that my mother would have rather traded a snowmobile tour for the whole family for the way that she felt. It’s always nice to be with the family doing something great like skiing or going to the lake, but we certainly did miss my mom on the mountain.
Amber finally made it out on the slopes on Tuesday afternoon. We were able to get Tristan’s issues under control and he took to the Bebekare quite well. They have a really nice facility in Taos and the Ski School is provably one of the best in the nation. Tristan managed to keep it all in during the day and got progressively better toward the end of the week. Suffice to say, the trip home was much better than the trip up.
My sister’s kids, Andrew and Ashley skied with us and this was their first time. There was lots of talk about pizza and french-fries. These are the terms that the ski instructors use to teach the kids the ski positions. The pizza is a snow plow or wedge shape where the tips come together and it really is consistently the easiest way to stop. Then French-fries refers to keeping the ski straight as you go across the mountain, or if you are 6 year old boy . . .DOWN the mountain. My sister always jokes (or maybe it isn’t a joke) that Andrew and I were forged from the same mold. This was non the more evident than when Andrew head straight down Strawberry Hill (the same run that I skied on when I was 6 in 1977) while everyone yelled TURN, TURN, TURN! . . . Inside my head I was thinking “My work he is done!”
All in all it was another great family trip and I’m grateful to my parents for helping fund the expedition. I’m also glad that we can all get a chance to disconnect from the matrix for a while and have some good quality fun. My mom stated that we always go on intense vacations that either requires some type of physical activity or an above average amount of time in the car. Maybe someday my mom and dad will document the great summer trip with in the country squire towing the pop up camper. It truly is the real Family Vacation . . . Chevy’s move is a paradise compared to this trip. I’ll just say that when you are going on vacation and your car starts to leak transmission fluid . . .turn around and go home! (What I remember of that trip was great)
After work on Friday, we packed up the Chevy Venture and headed West on Hwy 71 to start the big trip. Accompanying the trek was my sister’s family and my parents. Everyone in their own vehicle . . . two mini-vans and the Toyota Avalon.
I once went on a high adventure trip to Canada with the Boys Scouts. We hiked and portaged the head waters between US and Canada. It was the best, hardest and most demanding thing that I ever had the chance to do. On that trip we had an instance where one of the guys in our party was lost for 24 hours in the vast expanse of the open wilderness. I’m not talking about a State Park with trails and park rangers. I’m talking about the wilderness, where if you don’t have a map and a compass your in dire straights. Fortunately, we found him, but Allen Spelce, one of the assistant scout master and master adventurer commented that every trip has an epic and the temporary loss of one of our crew was the epic for that particular adventure.
Long story short . . .Too late! The epic of this particular adventure/road trip, was the puke that kept coming out of my sons mouth from the Northern flat plains of Texas to the might Sandia Mountains of New Mexico. We aren’t really sure what happened, but we do know that there was a little bug going around before we left. I’m sure taking your child up to the mountains in a low oxygen environment doesn’t help any. This unfortunate turn of events brought the trip to a standstill in Clovis, New Mexico where we stopped into the local emergency room for a Tootie once over. (See photo bellow). The hospital wasn’t exactly primitive . . . at least there was a defibulator in the corner and not just a bunch of batteries in series with jumper cables but it certainly wasn’t Seattle Central either.
The great thing about small town hospitals is that the competition is low. There were two police officers outside the emergency room when I walked up. I asked them if the emergency room was open and they directed me down a dark hall toward a door with light creeping out beneath it. I felt like I had just walked into a Stephen King movie directed by Kubrick. The staff ushered us straight into an examination room and started Tristan’s work up. The nurse was really nice and very understanding of our situation of being on the road. Our doctor looked like she just stepped off the set of Northern Exposure and I think that I even saw her on the slopes later that week. We got the canned response to our baby’s situation. “He has a virus and it will just have to run its course. Give him plenty of fluids and Tylenol to control the fever . . . oh and we can give him a suppository for the nausea.” So in the late evening in the emergency room in Clovis, New Mexico Amber and I learned how to put something up our kids bum! We haven’t gotten the bill for the visit yet, but they better not have charge me extra for the suppository instructions . . . that should be free! Sick baby or not, we headed North West and on to the mountains.
We arrived in the Taos Ski Valley late in the afternoon on Sunday. Tristan was doing better during the day but was still having problems if he laid horizontal for too long. We had just enough time to inspect the condo and unload the cars before the sun when down. Then it was dinner time and early to bed for a full week of skiing.
That night Tristan christened the bed, pillows and sheets that he was sleeping on, so we didn’t get too much sleep. Amber and I decided to sleep in and give Tristan some time to heal. After a nice shower and some breakfast Amber and I, along with my mom and Tristan head to the ski base to rent our skis for the week. Then we headed back to the condo for lunch and Amber, (who is the most understanding wife EVER) let me put on my ski clothes and hit the trails for a really good first half day of skiing.
The weather in Taos was great although it would have been better if it had snowed like 2 feet the day before we got there or would have dropped like 6 inches in the middle of the week. The sun was out everyday and we were able to wear light jackets and minimal under garments. I even did a little skiing without my gloves because I was taking so many pictures.
So we didn’t let Tristan steel all the medical attention for the whole trip. After we got to the condo on Sunday my mom was saying that she didn’t feel very good, but that she just thought that it was the altitude. Well she never really did recuperate and even got a complementary ride off the mountain by the ski patrol. I’m kind of ticked off about this because for years when I was younger and we would go skiing, my parents would never let us take a snowmobile tour. But my mother got to ride one down the mountain. But I’m sure that my mother would have rather traded a snowmobile tour for the whole family for the way that she felt. It’s always nice to be with the family doing something great like skiing or going to the lake, but we certainly did miss my mom on the mountain.
Amber finally made it out on the slopes on Tuesday afternoon. We were able to get Tristan’s issues under control and he took to the Bebekare quite well. They have a really nice facility in Taos and the Ski School is provably one of the best in the nation. Tristan managed to keep it all in during the day and got progressively better toward the end of the week. Suffice to say, the trip home was much better than the trip up.
My sister’s kids, Andrew and Ashley skied with us and this was their first time. There was lots of talk about pizza and french-fries. These are the terms that the ski instructors use to teach the kids the ski positions. The pizza is a snow plow or wedge shape where the tips come together and it really is consistently the easiest way to stop. Then French-fries refers to keeping the ski straight as you go across the mountain, or if you are 6 year old boy . . .DOWN the mountain. My sister always jokes (or maybe it isn’t a joke) that Andrew and I were forged from the same mold. This was non the more evident than when Andrew head straight down Strawberry Hill (the same run that I skied on when I was 6 in 1977) while everyone yelled TURN, TURN, TURN! . . . Inside my head I was thinking “My work he is done!”
All in all it was another great family trip and I’m grateful to my parents for helping fund the expedition. I’m also glad that we can all get a chance to disconnect from the matrix for a while and have some good quality fun. My mom stated that we always go on intense vacations that either requires some type of physical activity or an above average amount of time in the car. Maybe someday my mom and dad will document the great summer trip with in the country squire towing the pop up camper. It truly is the real Family Vacation . . . Chevy’s move is a paradise compared to this trip. I’ll just say that when you are going on vacation and your car starts to leak transmission fluid . . .turn around and go home! (What I remember of that trip was great)
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