Colorado - Breckenridge
Hanging around the mountainous parts of Colorado started to make me keenly aware that I have never skied. There’s no particular reason why I couldn’t have skied. I’ve had plenty of opportunities and I suspect that I might even enjoy the actual process of skiing. It was just that learning to ski never really appealed to me. I don’t like being cold, or having a runny nose, or pain. That somehow added up in my mind to a disincentive to taking those crucial first lessons.
Now, every time I look at the map I feel inadequate. Names like Breckenridge, Vail, Aspen, and Telluride seem to jump out at me and say “You wimp!” Being in Breckenridge was a particularly pointed reminder. The whole town is geared up for the ski season, including the hostel that I stayed in. When you enter through the front door you are in the mud room, where racks are set up for you to lock up your skis and boots for the night. It isn’t snowing yet, so there wasn’t any equipment there, but the chains were reminder enough.
The hostel stay was delightful. I met a number of interesting people on interesting journeys. They owners are an English couple who have been living in Breckenridge for years and are utterly in love with it. They are a hoot. The master of the house checked me in and cracked me up with his humorous way of explaining things. He gave me a parking ticket to display on the Cream Puff’s dashboard in the church parking lot across the street, “because we don’t want you being attacked by some mad, clamping Christian.” He also gave me a few simple rules of the house, like clean up after yourself “because we’re boring that way” and that the hot tub is reserved for the guests of a room upstairs from 8:30pm until the morning “because they pay more and life’s like that sometimes.”
Even the guests were fun. There was a guy on an extended cycling vacation, temporarily trapped in Breckenridge for heavy duty bicycle repairs. There was also a lovely couple called Mike and Wendy who were hiking a section of the Continental Divide from Durango to Denver. In case you’re not sure, that’s quite a long way. I was enormously impressed with Mike and Wendy. They’re about my age and are both engineers who met in college. They live in Colorado and are spending 5 weeks walking up and down mountains with heavy backpacks just for the fun of it. They’re charming and smart and funny, but they’re also a new source of inspiration in my life. Mike told me the story of how he quit his high paid, but boring job because he didn’t find it fulfilling, and now he’s hiking. Wendy also chucked her job to embrace new adventures on the trail, and find new work when she returns. They have seized the metaphorical yellow Ferrari and I envy their courage. Over breakfast the whole table discussed the merits of the various uber hikes and somewhere along the way I caught the bug. One day I hope I will be as brave as they are, and will quit my job to hike the Pacific Crest … just as soon as I pay off that fat Sydney mortgage that is waiting for me back home.
I wandered around the town of Breckenridge for a couple of hours in the morning. It was a good experience. The people I spoke with were all friendly and helpful, from the guy who made me a banana smoothie exactly to my specifications, to the couple who chatted with me while I drank it on a park bench in the square and admired the view.
I even happened to pass a store that was having a sufficiently serious sale that I could stretch to some modest retail therapy. Just out of curiosity, I grabbed a real estate booklet to see what it would cost to live in Breckenridge. I honestly thought the prices would be higher. Really nice places with 3-4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, double garages, hot tubs, mountain views and the ability to ski to your front door from the slopes were available for well under the magic million mark. In fact, there were quite a few smaller, but very nice places for less than half a million. Who would have though living in a ski resort would be cheaper than living in Sydney?
I liked Breckenridge, although I admit that it wasn’t cold or snowing while I was there. I liked it even though I missed out on the rubber ducky race that was to be held on Saturday. Apparently this is a fairly common thing in the USA as a charity fundraiser. People pay a fee to back their ducky then all the duckies are released into a river. If your ducky is first over the line you win a prize and all profits go to charity. The Breckenridge ducky race seems to be quite a big deal, with over 10,000 duckies involved. Local children are given official sticks and appointed duck wardens to keep any trapped duckies moving down the river to where they are collected and stored for the following year’s races. Somewhere in Breckenridge there is a warehouse containing 10,000 yellow rubber duckies. This is definitely my kind of town.
Now, every time I look at the map I feel inadequate. Names like Breckenridge, Vail, Aspen, and Telluride seem to jump out at me and say “You wimp!” Being in Breckenridge was a particularly pointed reminder. The whole town is geared up for the ski season, including the hostel that I stayed in. When you enter through the front door you are in the mud room, where racks are set up for you to lock up your skis and boots for the night. It isn’t snowing yet, so there wasn’t any equipment there, but the chains were reminder enough.
The hostel stay was delightful. I met a number of interesting people on interesting journeys. They owners are an English couple who have been living in Breckenridge for years and are utterly in love with it. They are a hoot. The master of the house checked me in and cracked me up with his humorous way of explaining things. He gave me a parking ticket to display on the Cream Puff’s dashboard in the church parking lot across the street, “because we don’t want you being attacked by some mad, clamping Christian.” He also gave me a few simple rules of the house, like clean up after yourself “because we’re boring that way” and that the hot tub is reserved for the guests of a room upstairs from 8:30pm until the morning “because they pay more and life’s like that sometimes.”
Even the guests were fun. There was a guy on an extended cycling vacation, temporarily trapped in Breckenridge for heavy duty bicycle repairs. There was also a lovely couple called Mike and Wendy who were hiking a section of the Continental Divide from Durango to Denver. In case you’re not sure, that’s quite a long way. I was enormously impressed with Mike and Wendy. They’re about my age and are both engineers who met in college. They live in Colorado and are spending 5 weeks walking up and down mountains with heavy backpacks just for the fun of it. They’re charming and smart and funny, but they’re also a new source of inspiration in my life. Mike told me the story of how he quit his high paid, but boring job because he didn’t find it fulfilling, and now he’s hiking. Wendy also chucked her job to embrace new adventures on the trail, and find new work when she returns. They have seized the metaphorical yellow Ferrari and I envy their courage. Over breakfast the whole table discussed the merits of the various uber hikes and somewhere along the way I caught the bug. One day I hope I will be as brave as they are, and will quit my job to hike the Pacific Crest … just as soon as I pay off that fat Sydney mortgage that is waiting for me back home.
I wandered around the town of Breckenridge for a couple of hours in the morning. It was a good experience. The people I spoke with were all friendly and helpful, from the guy who made me a banana smoothie exactly to my specifications, to the couple who chatted with me while I drank it on a park bench in the square and admired the view.
I even happened to pass a store that was having a sufficiently serious sale that I could stretch to some modest retail therapy. Just out of curiosity, I grabbed a real estate booklet to see what it would cost to live in Breckenridge. I honestly thought the prices would be higher. Really nice places with 3-4 bedrooms, 2 bathrooms, double garages, hot tubs, mountain views and the ability to ski to your front door from the slopes were available for well under the magic million mark. In fact, there were quite a few smaller, but very nice places for less than half a million. Who would have though living in a ski resort would be cheaper than living in Sydney?
I liked Breckenridge, although I admit that it wasn’t cold or snowing while I was there. I liked it even though I missed out on the rubber ducky race that was to be held on Saturday. Apparently this is a fairly common thing in the USA as a charity fundraiser. People pay a fee to back their ducky then all the duckies are released into a river. If your ducky is first over the line you win a prize and all profits go to charity. The Breckenridge ducky race seems to be quite a big deal, with over 10,000 duckies involved. Local children are given official sticks and appointed duck wardens to keep any trapped duckies moving down the river to where they are collected and stored for the following year’s races. Somewhere in Breckenridge there is a warehouse containing 10,000 yellow rubber duckies. This is definitely my kind of town.
1 comment:
I bought a hat once in Breckenridge. It's a really lovely town
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