Growing up, my parents took my two siblings and me skiing most years. Being the youngest, I started early– at age three. It was no small feat since we lived in Illinois. We did it on the cheap—which involved my parents picking us up from school then driving 14 hours through the night. We would save money by not staying in a hotel and emerge from our powder blue mercury station wagon ready to ski when the slopes opened at 8 am. Oh, and we’d have meals of broccoli and summer sausage in the car to avoid stopping. The ride was fragrant.

I don’t know how my parents did it. After taking my 3-year-old skiing last January, I have a new reverence for them. Our experience went like this: Continue reading →