Pulled back in with appealing treasures

Every time I find myself becoming annoyed with the world of work, it pulls me back in with appealing treasures. 

 

Last weekend, I was invited to spend a few days in Beaver Creek, a ski town about two hours from Denver. Not only was I offered two nights in a nice hotel, but I was booked for a 4x4 “adventure tour,” and given tickets to a show, an activity center, and VIP tickets to Oktoberfest, happening the same weekend. 

 

After work on Thursday Jack and I drove up and made it just in time for the show, “Broadway Sings America.” Performers sang Broadway hits from across the years, tying it together with the story of America and its 250th anniversary. It was fabulous.

 

But my favorite part of the weekend was the 4x4 tour. In a suped-up Jeep decked out to fit seven people in the back with unobstructed views, I got to sit passenger-side with my driver, JB. You see, these tickets had been booked for me, and with Jack in a meeting, it was just me on this adventure. I had assumed I would be sharing the Jeep with a family, or other people who had booked the trip, but when I arrived that morning, they informed me I was the special one going on my own. 

 

JB, a kind, older man of about 70, had been doing these driving tours for 30 years. As I sat next to him, he took me up the slope, telling stories of the trees and the mountain, stopping to share with me the wild raspberry bush he knew of hidden behind a building, taking me to stand on the ski run of the Birds of Prey World Cup Race. Dramatically, a chunk of the mountain was just ripped away near one part of the run. JB even took me mushroom hunting.

 

He shared his grapes with me, asked me about life in Minnesota, gave me tips for when I decided to start to learn how to ski in Colorado (JB told me that ice skating is the most natural comparison to downhill skiing, and that waterskiing is the opposite, since you lean back and tense your muscles). 

 

And as I wandered and stared at the views, unable to tear my eyes away, I got that warm, grateful feeling wash over me. If I wasn’t working at the magazine, I probably would never have experienced that (at least not for free). I wouldn’t have celebrated Oktoberfest in the mountains, listening to polka music, eating bratwurst, and of course drinking beer. 

 

Taking into account the wholesome conversations and time I got to spend with JB and other people during our weekend there, it just added the bow on top of a scrapbook weekend.

 

Driving home, as I was white knuckling my way through the mountains (my first time driving in them with my car, which definitely needs the brakes checked), the beauty of the valley, the already changing leaves, and the fact that I was not in the Labor Day weekend, traffic-filled jam going the other way, it was hard not to appreciate my work—and my life. 

 

My Determination:  “Somewhere in between the pace of life and work/ And where you’re going/ Something makes you stop and notice/ And you’re finally in the moment” — Come From Away