I wake up at 7:00 am, the smell of breakfast wafting its way downstairs with the sounds of pots and pans banging obnoxiously. However I'm not mad, it's the one time of year where I am happy to be woken up at an early hour. I turn to my side to see my cousins on the bunk beds beside me. “Merry Christmas!” I scream across the room ensuring that everyone who was previously asleep is not longer. We wake up and run upstairs to investigate a little more what is going on. The next thing we know we are handed a plate and pancakes in the shapes of snowmen are flying our way. A whole carton of eggs is being cooked in the pan and ten pounds of my grandpa's special bacon covered in maple syrup is pulled out of the broiler. We sit down at the long kitchen table and dive in. As we look out the window to the beautiful mountain view, it's snowing. “Yet another white Christmas here in Colorado”, my dad says. “The snow gauge says 7 inches last night and is still coming down!”. We excitedly scarf down breakfast and rally the troops ready to leave for the slopes 20 minutes before they open to get a good parking space. It's the best feeling in the world, snow skiing with my family during the holiday season in Winter Park Colorado.

Skiing has been a tradition in my family for as long as I can remember. My dad and his 3 brothers have been skiing since they could walk and so have we. Now, our moms had to learn in college when they were dragged along for dates taught by my former marine, grandpa. If you can imagine being taught how to ski by someone who is impatient, persistent, and challenging, it's not fun. I've heard many stories about how they were convinced to take the trail in the trees or on the black diamond and just barely made it out. My grandparents own a house out in Colorado that fits our large family of 19 so every Christmas we all get together to spend a week on the slopes as one big family. It is the one time of year when everyone is able to meet in one place. 

When we reach the slopes, we hike up to get our equipment on and ski to the nearest lift. The first run of the day usually consists of a blue run where the moms, grandparents, dads, and kids can all keep up. The kids and dads are a little quicker so we ski a little down the run then find a meeting place for everyone to take a short break before continuing. When we reach the bottom we decide to split up into our groups, Kids with dads and Moms with grandparents. “Meet at Snoasis at 12 for lunch,” my uncle says, which is our favorite ski lodge. And we part to find the best trails.

By the time lunch rolls around the moms are usually there early drinking a bloody mary waiting for the smooshed sandwiches my brother had carried in his backpack. After our hour lunch, we head back out to challenge ourselves some more.

I love skiing on Christmas morning in powder up to your calves. I love the cold brittle tingling feeling I get on my toes through my ski boots. I love the trail that my uncles take us, 9 cousins, through the trees. I love taking a break to drink hot chocolate at Sun Spot. I love the feeling at the end of the day when you finally get to unbuckle your boots. But most of all I love spending quality time with my family.