Skiing

Gary had his bachelor party this weekend and used it as an excuse to drag us all up to northern Vermont for the weekend. To make it even worse, we had to go skiing, too. It was a five hour drive and it wasn't so bad. You can see the change from boring to snow.

We finally get close and can see the mountain. It's like walking up to Mordor. We get beers and food with Gary and there's no way out. I've got 18 layers on, I can't move my elbows, and now I get to prove my athletic prowess by getting heckled by 8-year-old snowboarders.

Skiing was actually fun. Other than falling on the kiddie lift, falling getting both on and off the ski lift, and skidding off the track, I did pretty well. I finally get the skiing lifestyle. You hang out on the mountain all day, then hang out in front of a fire at a lodge drinking beer. There's nothing wrong with that.

We stopped on the drive home the next day to watch the Eagles game. It went from bad, to terrible, to amazing. The best kind of football game. There's one bar in mid-Vermont that now really hates the Eagles, or at least Eagles fans. We're kicking it old school.