After all, Charlie spent the night at the airport in Denver. I barely got out of St. Louis on a standby ticket. Chris and Liz were delayed in Chicago! Are we having fun yet?

My brother is waiting for me in Colorado Springs. God bless my brother! Without him, we have no vehicle and no transportation to Winter Park.

I eventually make it to Colorado Springs. The next day we head to the airport to pick up Charlie, who looks like a guy, well, like a guy who just spent the night at the airport. Once inside, we find out about Chris' and Liz's delay. Crap! We're losing daylight. So we entertain ourselves on Bloody Marys and arcade games until they arrive. You've gotta love the 'Golden Tee.'

Great! We're out of the airport! But we still have an hour and a half to the ski mountain. Make that two hours or more by the time we bought our lift tickets and coldies at the front range. As we near the ski mountain, the snow begins to fall. We get quite excited. This is the reason we came for. Perhaps everybody's mind is reeling about runs we've yet to take. Maybe they're thinking about previous runs down a mountain's face. The anticipation is killing me. I'm a little nervous. By snowboarding standards I'm a novice. In fact, the same goes for most in our group. We spent our first day messing around the mountain, attempting to sharpen what snowboarding skills we had. Day two would be different, much different.

After waking up to Charlie's fog horn-like snore, we begin gearing up for an early and hopefully long day on the mountain. Charlie and Liz stay behind. Chris, Jeff and I head out to hook up with Steve. Steve, a friend of Chris', is a local. He's a skier, but we don't hold that against him. After all, he's a very good skier who knows about all the hidden runs. The four of us head to the mountain.

Can you say Parsenn Bowl?! That's right. That's where it all began. Somewhere on top of that 12,060-foot mountain is a big can of whoop ass! We didn't know it yet, but that's what would make this trip special.

"The next day we head to the airport to pick up Charlie, who looks like a guy, well, like a guy who just spent the night at the airport"

To be honest, despite the fact that Chris and I had been riding four days and Jeff two, our skill level was quite good. We were hitting some decent runs and carving some decent turns. Steve probably sensed this and decided it was time for more. "How about a tree run?" he asked.

"Sure!" To the top of Parsenn Bowl we went.

Steve took off like a horse out of a gate. The rest of us followed in his wake. We quickly found the trees. Where's the trail? There is no trail! We're making the trail! The turns were tight, very tight. Weaving and bobbing through pines and snow-covered branches. Crap!!! Someone's down in front of me. Miss him! Miss him!! Miss him!!! Watch the trees; #!!#?! I'm down. #!!#?! A tree well?!? I can't freakin' get up. Be careful, be careful, be careful. Get away from that tree well. Whew! Solid snow.

I'm up. Build up speed, build up speed, build up speed, turn. There's a tree, turn. There's another! Another! Another! Duck, there's a branch! Duck, there's another branch! Carve that turn, baby. Sharp turns. Sharp, baby! Baby!!! Watch out for the snow bank!!! Crap!!! I'm down.

"Somewhere on top of that 12,060-foot mountain is a big can of whoop ass!"

By now I'm thinking, this mountain air is thin, and I can't breathe. Where's the freakin' oxygen? I feel as though my lungs can't expand enough. No matter how hard they try they can't take in enough air. I unzip my jacket. I pull off my helmet. Running a marathon was easier than this. I contain myself. It's time to continue.

I have no idea how many more trees are out there. Feeling the burn in my legs by now, I get back up and proceed to weave my way through the pines. More weaving, bobbing, weaving, bobbing. Then finally, there's a straight stretch. I see a clearing. I see the groomed trail just beyond the clearing! We're at the end!! We've made it!!!