We made it to the mountains and staked our claim. Obstacles presented themselves, but to rise above them was extremely satisfying. Our first family ski trip was a success.
The drive to Colorado was a challenge. It was supposed to be eight hours and ended being thirteen. I-70 was actually closed because of ice and blizzard conditions. We had to choose a different route. Our car was full of prayers for safety. As terrible as the weather conditions were, we felt as if we were inside a bubble that could not be burst.
Once in Colorado Springs, we set up camp with a real sense of ownership of the moment together. We were tired puppies, and Peterson AFB was a welcoming site. We knew our hotel room would have a kitchen and there would be a Commissary just minutes away. More adventures were just around the corner. Our expectations were high for what tomorrow would bring.
We came across a dog park, and Bella learned to enjoy the snow. Bearen got used to the idea of being on a leash. Sam, Will and Max said hello to an old friend -- the hiking trails found in the Garden of the Gods.
The snow-packed mountains of Monarch were calling us. Kent and I jumped out of our warm bed to grab our boys and head up to the slopes. So much had changed since we had been up at that elevation. Skiing now required helmets, and parents were frowned upon if their offspring's eyes were not covered with goggles. Our boys did not disapoint us. They took to skiing just like we wanted.
The boys left Colorado looking forward to the next ski adventure. Kent and I were relieved to see that our love for the mountains would be passed down. And, along the way, our family had also witnessed the true power found in prayer.
The drive to Colorado was a challenge. It was supposed to be eight hours and ended being thirteen. I-70 was actually closed because of ice and blizzard conditions. We had to choose a different route. Our car was full of prayers for safety. As terrible as the weather conditions were, we felt as if we were inside a bubble that could not be burst.
Once in Colorado Springs, we set up camp with a real sense of ownership of the moment together. We were tired puppies, and Peterson AFB was a welcoming site. We knew our hotel room would have a kitchen and there would be a Commissary just minutes away. More adventures were just around the corner. Our expectations were high for what tomorrow would bring.
We came across a dog park, and Bella learned to enjoy the snow. Bearen got used to the idea of being on a leash. Sam, Will and Max said hello to an old friend -- the hiking trails found in the Garden of the Gods.
The snow-packed mountains of Monarch were calling us. Kent and I jumped out of our warm bed to grab our boys and head up to the slopes. So much had changed since we had been up at that elevation. Skiing now required helmets, and parents were frowned upon if their offspring's eyes were not covered with goggles. Our boys did not disapoint us. They took to skiing just like we wanted.
The boys left Colorado looking forward to the next ski adventure. Kent and I were relieved to see that our love for the mountains would be passed down. And, along the way, our family had also witnessed the true power found in prayer.
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