I know I complain a lot. Complaining is funny. No one wants to hear about how fabulous everything is. At least I don’t. It’s not funny if it’s fabulous. And really, if your life is all that fabulous, I don’t want to hear about it even if it’s funny. Which it is not.
The first leg of my trip, however, was not fabulous nor was it funny.
The drive from Denver to Vail for a week long skiing trip was one of, if not the most, frightening experiences I have ever had in my life. It began with the relatively tame malfunctioning of the computers at the car rental place. Haha. The guy next to me the counter shrieking “THIS IS BULLSHIT.” Like that would help. But he made me seem like I was super nice and they got me my car before he got his issue(s) resolved. The car, though, is a tuna can on wheels.
The drive to Vail should take 2 hours, including a stop at the marijuana store. We pulled off at Silverthorne for that mission (it is legal after all) and when we got back on the road it began to snow. And then discovered that the freeway was closed at the next exit due to “multiple accidents” and we had no choice but to drive there on remote highways. This should have taken an additional 2 hours. Two lanes, blinding snow, glare ice, bad windshield wipers in a tuna can. Braking caused the car to slide sideways. The headlights of the car behind me so close my neck got sunburned. It was terrifying.
The snow which started in Silverthorne did not stop. Sometimes it was so bad that all I could see where the taillights of the car in front of me. After a total of nearly 5 hours we reached Vail and, of course, the snow stopped. In fact, it had not snowed in Vail. It hasn’t snowed here for at least a week. Haha.
But Pazzo’s has pizza and that made up for the drive. Sorta.