My dad came out this past weekend for his annual Breckenridge ski weekend. It used to be that he'd bring out the family: Sandy, David, and Lee, but the past couple years it's been just him. I drove up on Friday night and had dinner with him before turning in early. The next day we carved up the mountain a bit, staying mostly on Peak 9. Afterward, we hit the hot tubs and then tucked into some spicy dishes at our traditional Breckenridge favorite, Rasta Pasta.
The next morning, Charlotte joined us on the slopes for some runs. My dad retired at around lunch time, so Charlotte and I headed up to Peak 10 for some black diamond runs. We're not the greatest skiers, and we can't do moguls at all, but we had a fun time screaming down the hill about five times before heading in for the day ourselves. All told, it was a fantastic weekend.
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