Aspen has been just gorgeous. What a magical place. We've been staying at the beautiful ranch of a friend's parents since Saturday. The ground has been covered with snow since we got here, the skiing has been great, and the food has been, to quote our friend's stepmom, fabulous.
Skiing Aspen Highlands on Monday, I hurt my quads, which have now tugged on my ligaments long enough that I was unable to ski today (which was fine, because I've heard that Aspen Mountain is one of the two worst of the four mountains here).
The highlight of the trip for me so far was our lunch yesterday in Ashcroft, a small former mining town that some may call a ghost town now. The crowning glory of Ashcroft is the Pine Creek Cookhouse, a topnotch restaurant set back in a valley that no cars are allowed to drive into. To get there, it's a stop in Ashcroft and a one-mile cross-country ski trek or sleigh ride. We went for lunch and the food was amazing. The sweet potato soup was the talk of the table. A very special part of the trip.
We haven't partaken much in the Gay Ski Week activities, though I've run into a few people who were nice and cordial. There's some kind of cowboy party tomorrow which we'll venture to. Just to make an appearance, you know.