Twenty Nine Years

Twenty nine years ago today, my husband and I walked down the aisle as a newly married couple. It seems like yesterday and yet it seems like we've been married forever. It was a day much like today--sunny and cold. (Next time, we're getting married in the summer. The pictures will be so much better.) We were going to get married in May, but as we tried to coordinate the church, photographer, reception, etc., the date kept getting pushed forward. So, March 27th it was.

As we planned our honeymoon, I thought it would be great to go skiing. I had gone to Aspen with the Ann Arbor Ski Club the year before and had had a blast. I thought about how romantic it would be sitting in front of the fireplace. So we booked a flight, a hotel, bought my hubby some skis (he told the guy at the ski store that he wanted the extra long ones so he could go fast) and we were all set.

A few weeks before the wedding, we thought we should give the new skis a trial run, so we went to Mount Brighton. ("Mount" in the name is a big stretch.) I was slaloming down the hill and turned around to see how my stud fiance was doing, and there he was coming down the hill backwards. I could see him killing himself right then and there, and I wouldn't even get the insurance money. No more skiing until after the wedding.

When we booked our flight, we wanted to save money, so we decided we would fly out of Chicago (a 3 hour drive from where we were getting married). We were on the 8:00 a.m. flight, so we stayed at the Hyatt right across from the terminal. We left our reception around 10:00, checked into our hotel around 2:00 a.m. and had a 6:00 a.m. wake-up call. We were young--no problem. We ended up getting up late, didn't have time to go park in the cheaper long-term parking, and to make a long story short, missed our plane. We should have recognized this as an omen.

After a long day of travel, we finally made it to Aspen. Everyone walking around had great skiers' tans from the obviously great sunny weather. We couldn't wait to hit the slopes--actually we were exhausted and fell into bed. The next morning we got up, looked out the window and could see nothing. It was snowing sideways. We had ski passes that were only good for four days, so we decided to give it a try. As we were getting our ski clothes on, my husband was struggling with his ensemble. We had gotten him boots and skis but had forgotten about clothes. There he was in jeans, a gray sweater, and an old brown down vest.

He said I looked like Ski World, he looked like Farmer's Almanac.

And if you're on a budget, Aspen isn't the place to shop. (It was recently named the most expensive city to live in in the U.S.) We ended up getting him some navy pants and a navy hat to go with the brown vest--definitely not a fashion statement.

The first day of skiing was rough. At one point, my Mr. fell and put a hole in his boot with his ski pole. He banged his head so hard everything looked green. The highlight of skiing was getting back to the hotel and sliding into the hot tub. By the third day, the sun came out. We had a wonderful time skiing Snowmass until the final run, when we skied down to the buses back to Aspen, and Mike fell in the slush and mud right in front of a busload of people. His ego was definitely bruised.

We had one more day of skiing, but when we woke up, I just didn't feel good. We thought we would go down to the hot tub and see if I felt better a little later. Big mistake. I was in the hot tub for about 2 minutes when I felt my stomach start to churn. We made a beeline for the room where I made it just in time to lose my breakfast. I was sick all day. Miguel ended up playing Pac Man all day in the lobby while I slept. His only injury from Aspen was a blister on his thumb from the joystick on the video game.

The next day I felt a little better. We drove back to Denver for our flight the next day.

Everything went smoothly although it was a bit rough on the landing in Chicago. The high winds we had in Aspen had made it to the Midwest. Our plan was to drive to my parent's house, spend the night, pack up our wedding gifts and head back to Ann Arbor the next day. It was fine until we got about 90 miles from home. We ended up in a blizzard. The visibility was so poor we couldn't see from reflector to reflector on the highway. We went about 20 miles an hour. We finally made it to my parents street where we got stuck in the snow. Thankfully, my dad and brother helped and we got the car out without any problem.

Here we are 29 years later. I've learned a lot since 1982. On our next honeymoon, we're going to a resort with a beach.