Day 5: No Friends on a Powder Day

When we woke up we were gearing up for a very exciting day of skiing the 15 inches of freshies that had fallen that night. Matt and Triina decided that it was best to skip making breakfast in the shed (the day prior breakfast had taken 4 hours to make. . . . .) and get burritos on the hill so that we could make first chair.

Note: Triina and Matt live in a shed. With no plumbing. Here are pictures:

Clearly I did not stay in the shed (three of us in a twin bed would have been tight). I couch surfed in the condo next to the shed that was occupied by some of the their new friends Rachel and John, a brother and sister duo. The couch was the perfect Anne size and I slept super good, which is key to stayin’ healthy.

I was super excited to show Triina all my favorite runs and why I loved the Taos ski valley so much. I had been the push behind her and Matt coming to work at Taos in the first place. I talked that place up so much. However, this was not an ordinary day, it was a power day. And everybody knows, There are No Friends on a Powder Day. Its each man for themselves to get their own first tracks.

Because of that; Triina, Matt, and I rode for a total of 3 runs together the entire day. The first run we did the big front facing run under the lift called Al’s Run. Its bumps and powder all the way down. Its incredibly steep at parts which is why we had to do it immediately. Al’s Run is good for a total of 3 hours max even after freshies because it gets skied out so fast. We bumped it out top to bottom and then I had to go in to get some powder skis. The K2 Lotta Loves were not cutting it. 15 inches requires a fatty.

I picked up a sweet little ski called the Nordica Nemisis and headed back out. I did a few runs by myself to test them out, and then I eventually found Triina and Matt. Triina had to go get a face mask so it ended up being Matt and I for the rest of the morning.

We skied the front side all morning till the extreme cold forced us to get some hot drinks and chocolate turtles before going back out to discover that they had just opened up the backside of the mountain. Fresh tracks everywhere.

Triina never found us till after we had warmed up, but had been at the right place at the right time and had been one of the very first people to hit up backside. True to powder day matra, she took the freshies over finding us. Matt and I couldn’t blame her. We both confessed we would have done the same.

She was on her way in when we found her. Completely freezing, but willing to do 2 more runs with us to show where the good snow was. After that it was just me, Matt, and the new runs that they opened where we then got our first tracks in. we kept saying, “one more run, one more run” until we too finally also succumbed to the cold and hunger (no time for food on a pow-pow day). We went in to meet a happily powder fulfilled, yet still cold Triina for lunch/dinner at Tim’s Stray Dog Cantina.

We stuffed ourselves with green-chili burgers and then headed home to watch the torch light parade and fireworks before settling in a solid and well earned nap.

At 10 we decided it was time to go back out. The party seemed to be all around at multiple places, but we took a chance and went back to the Stray Dog. This turned out to be a fantastic idea.

No entry fee, a pumping DJ, and best of all: 2FDP. (FYI: 2FDP = 2^nd Floor Dance Party) We had the funnest time, just crazy dancing with the ski bum locals (Triina and Matt’s fellow co-workers). We also met up with the Condo kids that I was staying with, so it was just a big group of friends celebrating. All I could think of was how lucky I was to be celebrating in a ski town and how lucky I was to have had such a perfect day!

2011 was starting off amazingly. I could already tell it was going to be a good year ;)

Day 4: The Story of Taos

The story of how I first came to Taos, New Mexico seems to be one of fate. It was one of my first weeks of work in Houston and I was super missing winter. I had a terrible time adjusting to it being 60 degrees in January and there being no snow and more importantly no skiing (even though my co-workers were still wearing Columbia parkas like it was -10 outside). One Tuesday morning I was feeling particularly unhappy and I was like, ‘Whoa, I need to get out of here fast and get me to some winter or we are not going to make it.’ I googled the closest ski area to Houston and it brought up the little know place of Taos Ski Valley. I had never heard of Taos or that there was skiing in New Mexico. I had assumed I’d be driving to Colorado and thought I was in for a 22 hour drive by myself. Taos was 16 hours, so that was a significant improvement.

I went to my boss and told him that I needed to get out of Houston for the weekend and that I needed to flex my time. I must have looked like a person on the edge because he didn’t even hesitate and simply asked if I thought I would be back by Monday. I told him I would try. . . . . . .

With work taken care of, I went back to my desk to figure out the logistics. I found a cheap place to stay at the local hippie hostel called the Abominable Snow Mansion in Arroyo Secco (I rented a shed for $20 a night) and then saw about getting a partner in crime for my adventure. My ex-boyfriend Punkin was game and he bought a last minute cyber-saver ticket to Albuquerque for Thursday night.

That night I went home and packed up my car with my skis and snow gear. The next day I took off after a half day of work which started the first pilgrimage to Taos. . . . . . and that was the start of many great memories.

Taos is the last great adventure I had with Punkin. It’s my happy place when I needed to day dream at work. Taos is where Gareth and I first got together. Where we ate the best meal ever of sweet potato gnocchi. It’s the place where we did our first shotski with the Cuevo people and shared with the entire bar the hottest bloody mary ever made. Its where I first appreciated green chilies. It’s the place that kicked up my skiing several levels at ski week. Its where I first was able to hike and ski backcountry. My first steeps. The beautiful views from Kachina peak. The hot springs we hiked to. The hippy compound we stayed at. The beautiful sunshine of the blue bird ski days that was typical each day I skied out there. It was the hunting for soft snow through the trees. The endless mogul runs that were such a challenge. . . . .

Taos is my happy place and I love every minute of being there.

My first day back, I took Triina to some of my favorite haunts. We walked around town and ate at Graham’s Grille that night, (ironically Triina and I were seated at the exact table facing the kitchen that Gareth and I did 3 years prior). We ate an incredible meal – Triina with Salmon and me with Duck and Gnocchi. We watched the snow fall and talked about how great the powder day was going to be tomorrow.

Day 3: Goodbyes

I woke up and saw the west Texas that I had been missing the entire time the day before. Bright beautiful blue skies awoke me as I hit to road after my very sparse continental breakfast.

I quickly made it to El Paso and decided to go to this giant Texas shop that I had seen along the way on billboards. Boots! Pottery! Saddles! Jewelry! The place seemed to have everything, so I did the tourist thing and stopped in and did some shopping. I didn’t get anything, but it was fun seeing all the Texas/cowboy paraphernalia.

I then grabbed some gas, breakfast tacos, and my first of 6 chai tea lattes for the day and got back in the car.

El Paso is only 20+ miles from the New Mexico border and as I drove closer to it I still didn’t feel anything about leaving Texas. No euphoric moment, no overwhelming feeling of anticipation or joy. Nothing that I had imagined many times over the coarse of 7 years of wanting to leave the state.

At the stateline I pulled over to take a picture for Facebook to mark my crossing and take one last look at my previous home state. I took two shots: one of the past and one moving forward. Then I got back in the car and put away the Texas map and pulled out the New Mexico one.

In a flash the tears were there and as quickly as then came they were over in a span of 30 seconds and I pulled back on the freeway. That was it. When I thought to myself, well that was fast. I concluded that perhaps it was the fact that I had been saying goodbye since I had known about the job back in September. I had left Houston on a high note; I had achieved my goal of what I considered ‘making it’ in my field. I had done the thermal analysis for each of the truss pieces and watched them be installed. I had done academic theoretical work and started a paper to be published on free-molecular heating. I had spent the last 2 years being mentored by a Technical Fellow and had done design work for the new Docking system that all future vehicles would use to dock to the ISS. I had a fun group of friends, a lovely apartment in the hot part of town, I had grown in my rock climbing skills, gotten to do several memorable trips outside the country, and I had earned my master’s at a top ten university. I had made it in Houston. There was nothing left to cry about at that moment.

There of course had been Gareth to deal with. When I told him the news about my promotion and relocation, he had been extremely surprised and countered that he too had gotten a job in Seattle. That of course turned out to be untrue. Which is for the best. I said goodbye to him personally and closed that part of my life before I left for Christmas. That was the hardest goodbye, to say farewell to who you love and the one person who had disappointed you the most.

After the border crossing I put Condie back on and continued to hear about her college experience, getting her PhD, her accent into politics and her exciting experience in the cold war under the Regan and Bush administrations. Texas faded into the background of the past. The book ended just about as I got to Socorro and my 3^rd chai tea latte.

The New Mexico slogan, “The Land of Enchantment”, is perfect for the dry dessert land than transitions from the high Mesas of Texas into the Rocky Mountains. The journey from Las Cruces to Taos, New Mexico is incredibly beautiful and one of my favorite drives. I felt lucky to get to do this stretch of highway one more time. I passed the gas station that sells locally made beautiful Native American pottery and makes a great green chili sauce in the adjoining café. The rally ‘scort enjoyed finally getting to spread its legs and get to drive its favorite speeds of above 85mph. The drive was fast as the weather kept up although the clouds and wind started to pick up. The escort actually drives better when loaded up. The weight keeps the car from being blown sideways from the high winds that characteristically blow across the high plains.

As I reached Albuquerque, I was excited for the final few hours of the drive since that was when you really start to see the mountains rise in the distance and it meant my first ski destination was close. The weather finally gave in and a light snow started to fall and coat the surrounding desert shrubs and cacti. Triina and I called each other every half hour for status updates since we were super excited to see each other. The snow really started to fall for the final 36 winding miles along the Rio Grande through the mountains to Taos. My single music CD (Vampire Weekend’s new album ‘Contra’) chilled it out comfortably as the rally ‘scort remembered its snow driving skills.

Triina, Matt (her bf), and I celebrated my arrival in town at Orlando’s, with a dinner of enchiladas and green chili; the perfect welcome to New Mexico meal.

Day 2: Before the Devil Knows You’re Gone

I was glad I had spent the additional night in Houston, as I awoke the next day feeling much more awake and ready for longest driving leg of my trip. Texas is enormous and it takes the greater part of any given day to get out of it, no matter where you are in the state and I was going essentially the width of the state; Houston to El Paso.

As I drove away from Houston, I thought I would feel something about leaving. In my mind I had pictured some sort of moment to happen as I watched the 4^th largest metropolis fade from view in my rearview mirror. There is however, no distinct ‘you are now officially out of Houston’ location. The vast sprawl of the city goes on and on and the outer suburbs are no longer separate entities, but simply a continuation of the city’s giant amoeba footprint.

That and my stomach was hungry and wanted something quick but not fast food. I found the perfect Panera Bread solution. They make these great ham and swiss puff-pastry-soufflés that are really delicious and pretty inexpensive (it’s a long 18 days, budgetary concerns) and my first Chai Tea Latte (one of many for the day).

By 9am I was back on the road and listening to the last broadcast of the Rod Ryan show on 94.5 the Buzz, my usual drive to work radio show and the last good music I would hear for a while.

Earlier in Dec, I had gotten a feeling that Murphy would show up on my trip and that I was going to get a speeding ticket (because, that would be just like Texas, to give me one more going away gift), so I got a radar detector to help prevent this. I had always joked that in Texas there were only two seasons, Hell and Canadian summer, and that clearly it was the devil himself who was in charge of keeping me in Houston for so long, (which is why I needed to get out of the state as fast as possible; before he realized I was gone). The self fulfilling prophecy occurred before I had even reached San Antonio (laser, nothing the radar detector could have done). The officer ironically looked exactly like he was from the movie, ‘Oh Brother Where Art Thou’ the head officer that had been after the main characters and was the devil symbolism in the movie. Clearly, I had not driven fast or quite enough for him to not realize I was leaving. The devil had gotten me one last time.

The bad weather and the poor time I was making on the road did nothing to dampen my spirits as I became completely engrossed in the story. If you have not heard of or read this book, I highly suggest you do. It is hands down the best personal narrative I had read since, ‘Three Cups of Tea’ by Greg Mortenson.After that point the driving became slower as the overcast clouds let out the rain they had been storing and my radio station faded. I had replaced the stereo because I knew there was no good music on the road. I even set aside a specific collection of CDs purposefully for the roadtrip, which of course the movers packed while I had been busy making sure they didn’t pack my roommates belongings in the other room. So I had nothing but a single CD. I stopped in San Antonio for lunch, books on CD, and another Chai Tea Latte.

A few months back, I had seen on the Daily Show, Condoleezza Rice promoting her book, “Extraordinary, Ordinary People”, the memoir of her life growing up with her parents. I am Not a republican, but I do like to hear stories of successful women and how they got to where they were. Whether you support her politics or not, she has had an amazing career. I made a mental note to keep her book in mind. At Borders, when I saw her audio book, I knew it was the one. 9 hours and 7 CDs. Perfect for a roadtrip.

West Texas passed by me as Condoleezza read to me about her experience in growing up in Birmingham, Alabama during the 60s. She talks of her middle class black community and her educator parents who were also involved in the church (her dad was a Presbyterian preacher). She talks of what it was like to have the Civil Rights movement in your backyard and how scary that time was. You also learn about her education, her extended family, her love of ice skating, and how she became a concert pianist. Ms Rice’s story is exactly as the title says, extraordinary.

I was almost sad when it was finally 8pm and I had to find a hotel in Van Horn, 100+ miles shy from my original end point of Las Cruces, NM. The weather had simply put me too far behind to make it out of Texas, but at least I had had good company with Condie.

Day 1: Everybody needs a hero

Murphy's Law clearly states that,

"Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong."

This is especially rings true to anyone who has had any significant travel experience. . . . .

So the day before I am supposed to leave for the holidays (and incidentally, my final day of work in Houston), the 'check engine' light comes on in my ancient '99 Ford Escort (affectionately named, Mr. Toad or referred to as The Rally 'scort). I immediately suspect the loose positive connection on my car battery, since the day before I had been installing a new car stereo and didn't have the right tool to put it back on correctly. It was somewhat haphazardly placed back on and my intention was to get a much needed oil change and have the local grease monkeys tighten it for me.

I casually mentioned the offending warning light to the PTCS resident car-expert/co-worker Andres, just to see if that potentially could be the cause. Lucky for me that I did mention this important piece of information as Andres (who of course has the perfect tool) was able to do a computer scan diagnosis of my vehicle.

The results weren't pretty: 1 completely dead O2 sensor and an erratically behaving/soon to fail 2nd O2 sensor. Two dead O2 sensors = immediate roadside failure, which is something I was definitely hoping to avoid at all costs. This was in addition to the squeaky steering belt that I was hoping would be fine till some later TBD maintenance plan. The future start date of my road trip now looked to be in question as I tried to chew this piece of information and think about where/how I could get all this work done over the holidays (especially since the garage I had been going to turned out to have been doing shady, sloppy work, so I was not eager to patronize their business).

There was much distress in my mind until Andres becomes the hero of the trip even before it began! He offered to fix my car the day I fly back from Detroit after he gets back into town himself from McAllen, TX. This is not a small sacrifice as McAllen is 6+ hours away and he would still have to go to the store and pick up parts, etc at 6-7pm and then still work on the car for a few hours. A very long day indeed.

At that moment, I had a 'maybe I will miss texas' pang as I felt very lucky and fortunate that I had such a good friend who would be willing to help me out and make sure my car was going to make it on its long journey.

On the day of, true to his word, Andres had my car all patched up and ready to ride by 10pm. No large complications arose and he pointed out to me a few other items he noticed while working on Mr. Toad that would need attention sometime in the near future, but would not jeopardize the current trip. I was super grateful for all his help and I wondered where I would find another car guy once in Seattle who was as great as Andres?

Then Andres reminded me he was on IM at work and was still cool with dispensing advice (even though I was no longer his team member).

Since it was so late, and I had been exhausted by all my moving/school finals/holiday travel plans that I decided it was best to sleep one more night in Houston before I rode off into the sun set.

Day 1 Hero of the Day: Andres.

Farewell to Texas Epic Ski Tour

Everything in texas is big. The steaks are big, the people are big, the wide open ranges are big. As I hang up my cowboy boots for the last time in this state, I've decided that clearly, my exit should be big as well. So in true texas form, I'd like to invite all y'all to my (Big) Farewell to Texas Epic Ski Tour.

I am looking for friends, romans, and countrymen to join me in my cross-country epic quest to say farewell to the places that sustained me during my 7 years of painful, snow-less exile in texas; Taos and Telluride. And rejoice in my triumphant yet humble return to the land of the living in Seattle via Park City, Jackson Hole, Grand Targhee, and Big Sky.

The Plan. . . . . .

Dec 27/28 - Days 1-2: Drive from houston and Taos Ski Valley (~16 hours or less. Since I am escaping texas, I will be driving as fast as possible before the devil knows I am gone)

Dec 29/30/31 - Day 3-5: Ski Taos (my beloved adopted 'hometown' ski hill as well as my sister Triina's new workplace)

Jan 1 - Day 6: Drive to Telluride (~6 hours not including a stop at the hot spring or an ice climb in Ouray!) and pick a special guest skier

Jan 2 - Day 7: Ski in Telluride and Celebrate New Year's Eve (Telluride is a place I fell in love with when I did a ski trip with Gareth, its Triina's former stomping grounds, and home to several chill people. Found a place to crash in town and new powder skis to pick-up)

Jan 3 - Day 8: Drive to Salt Lake City/Park City (~7.5 hour drive, road trippy day with stops at scenic and kitchy tourist wonders)

Jan 4 - Day 9: Ski at TBD-Alta? ski area in Salt Lake City/Park City (Start the new year with something new. I've never been here, any suggestions?)

Jan 5 - Day 10: Ski at TBD-Snowbird? ski area in Salt Lake City/Park City (A different suggestion?)

Jan 6 - Day 11: Ski at TBD-Snowbird? ski area in Salt Lake City/Park City (A different suggestion?

Jan 7 - Day 12: Drive to Jackson Hole (~5 hours + hot springs? 'Cause you know I love me some hot springs!)

Jan 8 - Day 13: Ski Jackson Hole!!! (I have been waiting my whole life to come here!!!! Ever since I first vacationed there in the summer with my family when I was like 12 it was my dream to come back and ski. . . . .)

Jan 9 - Day 14: Ski Jackson Hole!!! Clearly this place is so awesome that you need a second day!

Jan 10 - Day 15: Drive to Grand Targhee and Ski (~1 hour drive to G.T., I think we can make it. . . . )

Jan 11 - Day 16: Drive to Big Sky and Ski (~3.5 hour drive to MT, we may actually drive here the night before so we can just sleep in)

Jan 12 - Day 17: Drive to Seattle (take a left from the mountains, drive straight on till Seattle ~12 hours)

Jan 13 - Day 18: Contingency day (Because at NASA we're nerds and every good plan needs one extra day just because. Ex: What if it snows and we need an extra day to ski?)

If you 'd like to do the entire road trip or just show up for a part of it, that's cool. I can either meet you at a resort or pick you up/drop you off in Albuquerque, Telluride, Grand Junction, Salt Lake City, Jackson Hole, or Seattle (clearly only on the days that its on my way).

This is more than just a ski trip. Its a celebration of life, new beginnings, and freedom to rip it up. (At some point we may need to fight for our right to party, but that all depends on how old school we decided to kick it)

It's going to be a heck of a ride, so saddle up companeros!

~Anne

I Heart Vancouver (Final Olympic Blog)

There is something strangely true about the Olympics being able to bring together the

world that you really have to be there to experience. ‘Bringing the World Together’

seems like a cliché they say on TV to play on your emotions. But out at the Olympics its not; and its almost so weird that you don’t believe it. What I mean by the world coming together isn’t one particular thing. It’s more than the athletes competing for medals or the fans sitting together or everyone on getting along on the street. It’s a moment. The Olympicsis like that, its a pause in real life that is an extended moment that lasts 2 weeks. The best part of the trip for me wasn’t the events, the condo, the food, or the parties. It was the collection of moments that I got to experience from those medians of interaction. The best part was simply People.

It was all the people that I met while standing in line (which sometimes long lines

were inevitable), that helped pass the time while you waited to get into the pavilions or to see the Olympic flame. It was the excitement of being there and a genuine interest of where are you from? What have you seen? What have you thought of the events? Of Vancouver? Of Canada?

It was the Czech fans from Vancouver who recommended a float plan trip while we chatted on a bus ride back from Whistler that led to Dina and I having a great fly

around the city.

It was the woman who put my gloves on the counter in the ladies washroom so I

would find them after I left them in there, and then the other lady who pointed them out to me as I waited in line to re-track my steps back to the stall.

It was the two young girls who noticed that I dropped a victory ceremony ticket out of

my pocket as I got out a map, who ran down the street to give it back to me.

It was the group of Vancouver kids I got to party with who got down on the dance floor to kick it to an awesome Ska band at Saskatchewan house.

It was the group of kids who were wild about NASA and wanted to trade their Olympic pins for my nerdy Shuttle and Station pins.

It was the warmth of the condo rental people who were so excited for us to be visiting

.It was the curling fans who shared their sports knowledge with Dina and I.

It was the Finns, Swiss, and Quebec people who rocked it out at the dance party ove

r at the Swiss house (I now have a new friend in Helsinki who has a couch to stay on).

It was the locals we stood in line with waiting to get beer as we contributed to the

need to fly in 300 more barrels of beer as they almost ran out a week early at the German House.

It was the people handing out free coffee and hot chocolate at the bus lines to warm us up before we took off for the mountains.

It was 25,000 volunteers from around the world in the turquoise-blue coats who made these and the Para-Olympic games possible. Thank you!

It was the Belarusian kid from California who was flying back home at the airport bar who shared all his crazy times.

It was the people in the streets we met running around and cheering for the Canadian wins with their flag capes, high fives, and Go Canada excitement.

It was the guys wearing Canadian flags giving the USA fans wearing the American flag a hug on the streets after the USA vs Canada gold medal game.

It was the fans cheering for a great run at the ladies freestyle moguls or the half-pipe. Nationality didn’t matter, only the performance in excellence did.

Everyone wanted to share your experience and feel the moment too. The power of the world brought together as one is something that is real. I heart Vancouver for its spirit and most of all, its people. That was one heck of an Olympic Games, one amazing party, and I’m so glad I went. Way to go Canada!