After work on Wednesday, we drive up to Breckenridge through the famed Eisenhower Tunnel.
We wake up the next day in the sketchiest Ramada Inn I've ever seen.

We pick up our pre-rented gear and head to the slopes.
(Art Curtis, pictured.)

Stephen joins us (above), as does Aaron from Skyline.

Heading up the lift to the top of some warm-up green slopes.

OK, we're up. How exactly do we get down?

Some other lift. They all start to look the same, mostly becuase they all go up.

Relax, Jill. We just went over this. We didn't actually do it...

Looking back down.

Stephen prepares to drop in.
That's probably the best part of skiing to me - the scenery. Long after my thighs have screamed their little lungs out and turned to rubber in protest, I'll continue just to be surrounded by the grandeur of it all.

Here comes Art!

Here he comes...

There he goes...

Still going...
After "turtling" on his back for about 50 feet (no joke), he slowly rolls over and stops his descent.

No worries; he lives.

Stephen and Aaron brave the slopes way up there. Not me!

I'll stick to slopes whose lifts don't exceed 45 degrees.

Done with the day (and post-day beers), we see a bit of downtown Breckenridge.

We head to Denver's 16th Street (I think) for dinner.
We were exhausted!
Good day...