Taos Ski Valley, NM, is like the poster child for global warming this season. Poor guys. I’ve been hanging at the Austig House motel/hotel for the past three nights, cruising the mile and a half up to the base of the resort to watch the diehards eek out whatever turns they can make on 30 inches of manmade snow that will now soon melt away. Snowmaking ended recently because the their forest service says so.
Al’s Run looked like vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce all over it- the sauce being dirt. The ski school, fortunately, has chugged right along as many beginners and intermediates continued to show up for those infamous ski weeks and toasts at the martini tree. I was actually surprised at how much of the mountain was open given their snowfall this year. Crews have worked diligently to spread that manmade around and make it stick. ooh boy, were the runs firm- even in 60 degree weather. Easterners, though, probably were psyched. But, truthfully, one day on the hill was enough for me. Without sharp edges, you’re hanging on for life with every muscle gripped in tension. I can wait. I know that back home there will be plenty of freshies from the incoming storm headed our way. Instead, I’ve eaten myself into a coma this weekend. New Mexican cuisine is yummy. Lots of spices, kick, mixed flavors; tonight, for example we ate the Apple Tree in downtown Taos and I had chicken enchiladas in a blue corn tortilla with mango/green chili salsa. Our waiter served everything with a smile as we sat among local art for sale on the walls and the hum of diners from around each corner of the restaurant’s mazelike seating arrangement. I highly recommend the place.
I fly home tomorrow. Maybe I’ll finally be able to kick this cold and nausea doing a number in my tummy ever since I got back from Brazil last week. Ryan’s buddy Chad got married in Campos de Jordao and two days later in Ubatuba he was flattened by the flu. As luck would have it, Ryan and I were the ones sharing the tiny car with him as we drove four hours to Rio for my flight to Utah. I swear I’m like a virus magnet. So long as I’m around healthy people, no worries. One person with a nasty case of something and I’m its next victim.
Speaking of Ryan… we are still going strong!! I bet that freaks him out to consider but at the same time we both agree that it’s just “easy.” Of everyone I’ve ever dated, this one is the healthiest, most normal and least high maintenance. Sure, I worry that one day he’ll simply pack up and move home to Massachusetts without even saying goodbye (thanks, Greg, for giving me that issue) but what can you do? If it happens, I survive and move on like I did before. Each dude has been better than the last. Let this be a lesson to you, Girls. Never think that you’ll never meet anyone better than your last guy. YOU ALWAYS DO.