Getting My Hopes Up

Two years ago around Valentine's Day, Brett and I took our first real kid-free vacation since having kids. We decided to go back to Snowshoe Mountain in West Virginia for a week of skiing.

We had been there once before when I worked at Sandestin, another Intrawest-owned resort. I had received a free two-night/three day ski package in a beautiful one-bedroom condo in the center of their mountain-top village. We had a great time and I couldn't wait to come back.

In 2008 we finally decided the boys were old enough for us to leave them while we returned to Snowshoe for five days of skiing. We decided to make the most of our vacation by going through Great Smoky Mountains National Park.

We went tent camping (!) in the mountains (!!) in February (!!!). I wore my fuzzy blue bathrobe and my headband to bed and remained quite cozy. Brett's sock hat had fallen off during the night leaving his shaved head exposed.


We spent the next day driving through the Blue Ridge Parkway.

By the time that we got to Shenandoah National Park, the little cold that Brett had felt coming on the day before had worsened.

As soon as we got to the Inn at Snowshoe, Brett put himself to bed with pneumonia and stayed there most of the week.

He drugged himself as best he could with DayQuil and managed to hit the slopes a few times.

For the most part, I was left on my own. I still enjoyed myself, but I was lonely without him, and felt sorry that he was feeling so bad.

As we left Snowshoe Brett said, "I never want to see this place again." And I believed him. He had been miserable. It was arguably the worst vacation he had ever had.

We still receive promotional e-mails and brochures from Snowshoe from time to time. With all of the snow on the East Coast that has been in the news lately, Brett recently wondered aloud, "How much snow do you think Snowshoe has gotten this year?" Then he said, "Hey! Do you want to skiing?" I quickly and enthusiastically responded, "YES!" even though I knew he was only joking.

The next day Brett started looking at their web site and suggested that I give them a call to find out more about the rates and ski packages. I still didn't think he was serious until he called me the next afternoon (he never calls me!) and asked if I checked the rates yet.

After discussing the rates together I confided in Brett that I was in serious danger of getting my hopes up; I was starting to feel the excitement of a possible ski vacation rising in my chest. He replied, "Don't do that. Don't get your hopes up." Oh, but I have!

When Brett asked me the next day if I had called his parents to see if they could watch the boys, I knew he was completely serious.

Today sealed the deal. We are going skiing again! At Snowshoe! Even though Brett swore that I would never have that special privilege again on account of how miserable he was the last time! We leave in just over one week.

All I can say is, we better have a fabulous time. Otherwise Brett will hold true to his promise of no future ski trips to Snowshoe. And I don't want that to happen. Wish us luck!