After our doozy-of-a-week in the hospital, our overnight trip to Copper Mountain on Friday could not have come at a more perfect time. I asked Jamie if he wanted to cancel but we have been trying to schedule this getaway for months (our lodging was a trade agreement with one of his clients).
And so we went with the understanding Jamie would need to lie low.
If there’s a perfect place to do that, it’s Colorado’s mountains in the fall and we nailed the colors perfectly.
Located 75 miles west of Denver right off I-70, Copper Mountain is the last of the major ski resorts I had yet to visit. Unlike many other resorts in Colorado, there is a ski village built around the area but no real town. This means the shoulder seasons (fall and spring) are like a ghost town. The solace was glorious.
On Friday night while Jamie rested at the condo, Hadley, Bode and I hot tubbed and then explored the area, starting with Copper Mountain Golf.
(Shhhhh, don’t tell the golfers we were on contraband bikes).
We also checked out The Woodward at Copper, a year-round snowboard and ski training camp (the first of its kind) with 19,400 feet of terrain park and pipe progression.
Basically, it’s teen/tween heaven and the staffer was gracious to show us around and even let the kids jump off the ramp into one of the many foam pits.
I declined for fear I’d be unable to climb out.
And yes, I speak from old-woman experience.
Tune in tomorrow (read the story here) for the sordid details of my ride of death. OK, maybe I didn’t exactly die but find out why I kind of wanted to. And yes, I still know I’m in need of posting pumpkin updates. It’s on my (very long) list.
I'm a Canadian-born mom of two, former Denver Post columnist, family travel writer, editor of MileHighMamas.com and 9News contributor. Expert on all things Utah, Denver, family and travel. Lover of laughter and life. Happily married to a man obsessed with growing The Great Pumpkin. 