Hello and welcome to the land of the springtime blizzard, puppy energy, a winding-down spring break, and anticipation of vacations soon to be taken.

Keystone closes in ten days. Night skiing is already done. We had a week of beautiful, warm days, which left patches of trails melted off on south-facing aspects. And then the wind began blowing, and the snow began falling, and now, the county is white again.

Ha, did I really think I would get through a whole post in a day? jokes on me. Now, Keystone closes in six days. Bobby finally used his first day on his Keystone, Breck, and A-basin 4-pack day before yesterday. Instead of a season pass, this year he bought only four lift tickets at a steeply discounted price, and he has now gone exactly as much as he did last year- four runs. But I am hoping to get him to the Basin to use his other three days yet before summer. The Basin really can be a wonderful place in the spring. It manages to actually pull off the "beach" feel it strives for. Beer, barbeque, and bikinis, tailgates and sunbathing, pond skimming and awful, slushy snow. Only problem is, every time I actually plan a day at the basin, spring bares it's teeth and slings sleet in my face.

Anyway, we had about six inches of freshies. I had gone to the Basin and met my friend Ginta, and we had made a few runs down Montezuma Bowl when Bobby called to say he was going to Keystone. I was a bit squiffy about it, not that he was finally riding, but because he waited until I was at the Basin before telling me he was going to Keystone, as if he were trying to avoid riding with me. But he explained that it had been spur of the moment, and since Marci was still in bed and not answering her phone, there was nobody at work, so he had to stay within range of a cell phone tower in case one of our guests needed him. Since there is limited cell phone coverage at the basin, he was stuck with Keystone. The story of his life. So I had to forgive him a tiny bit. I ditched Ginta (she said she understood) and raced on bad roads to Keystone, where, since the runs were already tracked up, I took him through all my front-side powder stashes, so very happy I could finally ride with him. It was just like the good old days when we used to ride together. We haven't done that for three years.

Since we are now dog owners, I have not been riding as much, and when I do, I plan to be back at the vehicle at two to three hour intervals to let the dog out to pee. Which means I do not spend as much time in the Outback or on North Peak as on the front side. Which means I have discovered powder stashes I had no idea about on the front side. I have gotten to know it like the back of my hand. It helps that I have spent time on it in the summer as well, on my bike, because I know what the terrain is doing under the snow, and when to expect flat spots and tight trees.

And when I am not at Keystone or working, I have been busy tracking up the open space and national forest land outside my front door. The moon is working its way closer to full, so Andy and I have been going out for our daily ski later and later. We usually climb up to the ridge above our house, a windswept, rocky spine, with all of the Cove spread out below us, the golden glow of civilization on one side, the silvery shadows of an open valley on the other, and we make our way along the spine, into the woods, until we pop into a long, open run, a gully that leads downhill, back to civilization, at which point we point ourselves down hill and let gravity do the work. At least I do. Andy bounds along behind me, sneezing in the wash that comes off my tails, sometimes neck and neck, sometimes so far behind he is merely a shadow among the silver shadows. At the bottom I wait for him to catch up, and we make our way behind rows of cookie-cutter, pastel houses, blinds up, revealing families having dinner, watching TV, surfing the internet in the warm golden squares of their windows. Then, across the street, down a steep bank, across another street, and we coast up to our front door. I am absolutely loving the fact that I can walk out my door, put my skis on, ski as many miles as I want to, return to my door, and take my skis off. Such luxury I have never known. Now, if I just had skis that were up to the challenge. But that's another issue. I shall have to save awhile for that. Our taxes wiped our savings right out this year.

We are planning a vacation, albeit a scaled-back one this spring, however. My dear husband has long wanted to witness a Nascar race in-person, and he has decided that Phoenix, on April 18, is a race he can afford tickets to. He and Wendell will be going. It took much discussion for me to decide against going, but I finally opted for staying in the motel while he is out watching cars make left-hand turns. Not that I would mind it, I think I would even have fun, but then I thought about the fact that the bucks I do not spend on a ticket could be used toward new cross-country ski gear that is my size and not already worn out, not second or even third hand, and my decision was made. Plus, mountain bike season is fast approaching and I need new tires. Mine are showing threads. And I had hoped I could find a better, lighter bike helmet on sale, and I have my eye on these running shoes I almost bought last year but didn't... and... you get the picture. B doesn't know this, but when he gives me cash for lunch, I sometimes skip it, go home and eat a carrot stick so I can save the cash to use on sports gear later.

Anyway, we have made reservations at the Moab KOA for two nights in a cabin, and paid an extra $10 to bring the small furry one with us. We decided against bringing the bikes, since we are not in bike shape anyway, and after one big day on the slickrock, our butts would be sore, our legs would be sore, and we would still have an entire vacation ahead of us in which we would feel obligated to ride them since we brought them. And without the bikes in the back of the truck, we will have room for a mattress to save on motels, and we will not have to leave Andy behind. Instead, I have hikes in mind all over the west- Moab, Sedona, Flagstaff, Phoenix, on which we can take the four-legged one. I have spent a lot of time online perusing sites that promise hikes that "won't be able to wipe the wag off your dog's tail", with streams, sandy trails, and lots of shade.

We plan to leave as soon after Keystone closes as possible- like the next day. We may stop at Wendell's house in western Colorado and pick up his golf clubs so the boys can play a few holes on the way back from Phoenix. The only plans we have are two nights in Moab, and we have to be in Phoenix on Friday night to pick Wendell up from the airport. The rest of the time is wide open. I am beginning to get rather excited. For once, we are not spending our spring vacation on a beach, we are spending it doing my kind of things. Desert-ey things. And for once in my life, I am thankful for Nascar. It made this trip possibe for me.

Ok, nothing against Nascar. I only resent it because it takes Bobby away from me on Sunday evenings, when he watches the race recorded during the day. Because he hurries home to watch it before he might accidentally see the winner on MSN or something. Because I talk to him and he doesn't even hear me when the race is on. And, (although I hesitate to say this because it makes me sound self-rightous) because I cant help but imagine all the hungry mouths that could be fed with the money being generated, then spent on going fast and turning left. And I know... don't say it. The same could be said for sports equipment, my own particular vice.

And now, I must skip off to work. Before we leave, I need to have all the home owner billing done, so the company's owner knows how much to take out our condo owner's rental income checks for maintenance and upkeep in their units since last April. I am seeing rows of numbers in my sleep. I spend all day in the office these days, 18.2 pounds of sleeping golden retriever draped over my feet, my days punctuated by dog potty breaks and occasionally prying no-no's like reciepts or invoices out of his mouth. We will be so very glad when he gets his big-dog teeth and his big-dog bladder.