There wasn't much time between the trip to Charleston and my trip to Colorado. Sometime after I had returned from skiing in Colorado the first time, I became aware of the local ski shop's annual trip to Summit County, Colorado. Previously, this was by invitation to a select group of customers. But this was the first year that the ski shop was opening it up to anyone through their own travel booking service. I would have been invited simply because I bought a ski package from them and had used their travel service previously for a ski trip to Virginia. I don't recall when I signed up and paid for the trip. But, it was either late February or early March, 1986.

The weeklong trip was limited to 165 people and the cost included airfare, transportation to and from Denver's Stapleton Airport to the Keystone Resort, condo rental, and a four day (out of five) lift ticket for all the Summit County ski areas (Keystone, Arapahoe Basin, Breckenridge, and Copper Mountain). With the Summit County Shuttle Bus System, this gave you an opportunity to ski at least one day at each of the Summit County ski areas. There were a variety of condo options and whether you would be sharing a condo with others. In my case, I would be sharing a rather large three bedroom condo with a father and his two sons from the Charlotte area. My flight combination had me fly from RDU to CLT and then to DEN on Sunday, April 6th. I would return on Saturday, April 12th.

After we had returned to North Carolina, my new lover went to her gynecologist to check out what had caused her bleeding. His opinion was something very big had been inside her. Actually, the tearing/stretching occurred at her posterior fornix (the vaginal tissue on the far side of the cervix). Apparently, as flexible as the vagina is and can be, I exceeded the limit at the far end and pushed through that tight spot. That's what "broke" or gave way. We weren't far off about losing her second virginity. And we laughed about the Star Trek line "To boldly go where no man has gone before." A few days rest (or a little easier sex) was all she needed to recuperate.

As I recall, at first I had been spending Wednesday evenings and then Monday evenings at her place. Those were two of the three nights when I didn't have my son with me. I didn't come to her place the Monday after we returned from Charleston because my son spent the night with me. I came over to her place on Wednesday evening. Even before we became sexually involved, I left her place in the evenings; sometimes before her daughter went to bed. I hadn't spent the night (yet) until that Wednesday when she asked me to stay the night. Watching our interactions, she had decided that her daughter might be ready to see and accept someone else in her mother's life. That would mean, eventually, seeing me in the morning with her mom. I still left pretty early because I didn't have any other clothes with me and had to drive home to change before going to my office.

I was excited to go skiing in Colorado, though. My skiing had improved so much since December with my first pair of skis. My first trip with four days of skiing in Colorado provided me a quantum leap in my skiing ability. So much so, that "local" slopes that seemed challenging and scary were much less challenging and I moved up to more challenging terrain. I took a couple of Wednesdays off to go for a day of skiing in February and March. It was on one of these Wednesday trips that I took what was and has been one of the hardest falls I've ever taken. I had met this couple late in the day on the triple chairlifts we were riding and the slopes we were skiing and we took an immediate liking to each other. This was just friendly conversation between skiers and I didn't make it mean anything at the time. Some of the slopes would soon be lit for night skiing.

Anyway, we were skiing a run named "Compromise" towards the top of another run called "Meadows" that was at the top of the two-lift ride combination that was needed to get to the summit. I was in the lead coming off the end of Compromise where the slope flattened out. This was an intermediate level slope and earlier I had been skiing the more difficult slopes on this part of the mountain. To make a longer run, we had skied into this area and past the top of the lower triple chair lift to the base of the mountain.

I was carrying a fair amount of speed into this flattened part of the mountain and would be staying far enough away from the top of the lift so as to not encounter skiers coming off the lower triple chairlift. It only took a moment...maybe a momentary lapse in attention. I don't really remember what I was thinking in that moment. There were icy patches that had appeared where the snow had been scraped off the underlying compressed snow that had turned to ice. Suddenly, I caught an edge on my left ski as I hit one of these icy patches and I was losing my balance.

Now, I probably should have just let myself fall (and let the bindings do their thing and release) as I had been taught to do. But no, I thought I could save this as I started to fall backwards. As the left ski started to twist away from me, I had a fair amount of weight loaded onto the rear of the ski. The binding did its job and released with a loud pop and the skiing started spinning as It passed between my knees and went flying into the air. The tail of the ski caught the inside of my right knee. I was still on my right ski as I was trying to turn it to the left and use the inside edge to skid to a stop.

I remember the (brief) thought that I might be able to "save this" by balancing on my remaining ski as I brought the now ski-less left boot towards my right foot and skidding to a stop. That was very short-lived. I don't really know how far I managed to skid on that right ski but it skidded across another icy spot and lost all friction. With that loss of friction, that ski went up into the air and I rotated in what felt like a slow-motion crash. I came down hard on my left side with my hip and upper leg hitting first. I slid 15-20 feet like this until my remaining ski finally dug into the snow enough to slow me and bring me to a stop. My other ski had flown through the air and then landed and stopped about 25 feet away from where I was laying.

My couple friends skied up to me.

"Are you okay?: the young woman asked me when she stopped next to me.

"I don't know," I managed to get out. I was aware of the sharp and then dulling pain at my left hip. The impact had knocked the wind out of me and I was trying to catch my breath. I laid there for a moment as a small crowd gathered around. I realized I still had my ski poles and used the right one to release the binding on my right ski. Someone retrieved my left ski and brought it back up the slope to where I was laying and then took both skis, drove the tails into the snow to form an "X" as a warning to other skiers coming down the slopes. I finally rolled over onto my back. I was aware that I had taken quite an impact.

I lifted my right leg off the snow and moved it around. Well, my right leg worked. I let the heel of the boot rest on the snow. Then came the challenge of lifting my left leg. It hurt, but at least I could move it around as I straightened my leg to lift it off the snow. I pulled my leg up towards my torso, bending at the knee. I could do that, too. Not painlessly, mind you. But it indicated to me that I probably hadn't broken anything. I was helped up to my feet and I could put weight on the left leg.

Once I was up, the accident appraisers skied away while my couple friends stayed with me. I told them I was going to rest for a few minutes before trying to ski down the mountain. I told them if I couldn't ski down, it would be time to call the ski patrol and I sent them on their way so that they could get their last runs in. Several minutes later, they came off the top of the lower lift and checked with me. I told them I thought I'd be able to ski down but to check with me when they came by on their next run. A few minutes later, they came down the run we had been skiing when I took the fall. I had already stepped into my skis and clicked into the bindings. By now it was the last run before they closed the mountain (briefly) before night skiing.

I slowly skied down the slopes to the base with this couple. My leg and hips seemed functional. But, I knew I had taken a really hard fall. When we got to the building at the base of the mountain, I found that walking in ski boots was challenging. I made it inside the building and into the the Men's bathroom. I rolled down my stretch ski pants to take a look at my left hip and found that the knapping of the inside of the pants was sticking to my leg because the sliding had creating an abrasion burn (what looked like a huge bruised raspberry) and the swelling from the developing bruise.

Although the couple offered me a place to stay (they lived locally in West Virginia), I decided I needed to drive home (or at least try). After a cup of hot chocolate and something to eat, I thanked them for their offer, took my skis and placed them in the roof rack of my car and drove home. The good news was that it was all Interstate highway or four-lane highway nearly all the way home. Pulling my pants off when I got home was challenging with the abrasion burn and it was not fun in the shower. By the weekend, I had a bruise that extended from my hip to my knee down where the seam in my pants was.

I also fulfilled a promise that I made to my son about taking him with me to go skiing. The first time I went skiing in March 1985, he wanted to go with me. I told him that since it was my first time, I didn't really have any idea of how things worked. I promised him that after I had a sense of things worked, I would take him but it would probably be better for the both of us to wait until the next year when he would be five years. Of course, when I made that promise I didn't know just how attractive skiing would be to me as a sport. It was an intermediate level mistake that I mentally filed away to not repeat.

True to my promise, I took my son skiing with me on the weekend between when I returned from Louisiana and the Easter Weekend when I was with my new lover. We left Raleigh to drive the nearly seven hour drive from there to Snowshoe, West Virginia. I knew that many people from the DC area went there to go skiing as well as some from the upper Midwest. It was my first time there and it seemed a much larger ski area than any that were closer to where I lived. And it was different in that all the "base facilities" were actually at the top of the mountain. Our accommodations were in one of the lodge buildings and I would call it rustic. It reminded me more of a dormitory than hotel room accommodations. But it was fine for my son and I. We arrived, got oriented to the layout, went to the restaurant at the top of the mountain for some dinner and later went swimming in the indoor pool.

Let me say something about this experience. This was my first time with my (five year old) son at a resort (a ski resort). I was a fit, well-toned, 32 year old man who looked good in ski stretch pants and even better in a swimming suit. And what I found out both at dinner and at the pool was that a single guy with a child was a "chick magnet." There is a certain sexual undertone related to the skiing scene besides having the common community of skiing (though as my new lover had proven at one level, being someplace to look at and possibly pick-up male skiers was also a "thing"). So, what I noticed was the interest in us (was this my son, was I here with anyone else, what was my marital status were the underlying questions to pleasant conversation around skiing, conditions of the weather and snow, etc.

Ironically, this was a sort of situation that Catie and I had talked about after our trip to Minneapolis (though we didn't talk about having my son as part of the "bait") as a "what if" scenario. When we first met on the train and had already been sleeping together, we had one of those situations where the guy who had the coach seat next to hers looked hopefully at her and then saw her with me when she walked up to kiss me at the front of the car (See Part 1, Chapter 8: "Train"-ing Enemas, The Train to Chicago: Minneapolis and Making Plans for Chicago). We replayed that as a "what if scenario" in phone conversation after our second train trip where we met Ted and Annie and then after we went to Minneapolis to be with them. The what if was "what if we had invited him to the back of the train for the two of us to fuck her." I could see where a scenario where Catie might sit back and watch what developed between another interested woman and then come in and ask if was interested in fucking with us. Of course, we never got to do that or even work out the logistics of any of that.

This resort also had a bar/club with its own scene. But with my son with me, leaving him in the room while I went to the bar was not in the cards. And really, neither was sex with anyone else while my son was there. But I wasn't "unaware" that I was the prey. After coming back from the pool, I read him a story from one of his books and he fell asleep. I watched whatever basketball game was on that Friday night during the NCAA basketball Tournament.

Saturday was a bright sunny day. There were ski lessons for children at Snowshoe. The were half-day sessions and depended upon having enough students to fill a class. Fortunately, on this weekend, there were plenty of children to fill the classes. After breakfast, I got him properly dressed for skiing with plenty of sunscreen for the March sunshine. I rented his skis and paid for his lesson and told him that the ski school instructor would teach him how to work with the skis and the first steps to skiing. "Listen to what they say and have a good time playing on the snow," I said.

I waited with him until his lesson was starting and then told him that I would be back for him and we'd have lunch together. I skied off to explore the terrain. This being a new skiing location for me, I started with some of the easier terrain before moving on to terrain that was more challenging. I wasn't comfortable in really bumpy slopes and stuck with stuff the was smoother, though possibly more icy later in the day.

The lift lines weren't too long on Saturday and it warmed up quickly so that I didn't need a jacket or a sweater. I was almost always on the chairlifts with another person where we'd strike up a conversation on the ride back up. And sometimes we'd ski a couple of runs, not really together, and end up on the chairlift together again for the next ride up. I was working myself up to the more advanced terrain and mindful not to get too over my head.

I arrived back at the designated meeting place for my son's ski class and watched him ski down the easy ski school slope. The school instructors had attached a balloon to each of their younger students (my son had a red balloon) with their name written on it. He saw me and got almost to me when he faceplanted in front of me. He was upset and was crying as he told me he didn't want to do this anymore. The ski instructor skied up to me and told me that he was having difficulties keeping his balance and he was getting frustrated. The instructor told me what time the afternoon session was scheduled to begin. I told the instructor that we'd see if he would be back for the afternoon as I helped my son clean up from his fall.

A couple of slices of cheese pizza, some hot chocolate, and a few video games later and my son was feeling better. I told him that he didn't have to go back ski school if he didn't want to. I did ask him what he was having trouble with. "I keep falling," he said. Before I could respond he said "you don't fall." I laughed and then told him about my first day and how much time I spent getting up and then how I started to make progress falling less and less. I told him that after that first day where I spent so much time falling, it got easier to keep my balance and not fall and what he saw me doing only came because I had spent more than 10 days skiing. He considered what I said knowing that if didn't want to go back, he didn't have to. I sent him off to play a few more video games and when he came back he said "Dad, I think I want to try again."

He was ready to go back out and try again and his afternoon was so much better than his morning. I knew that the sense of balance would finally start emerging. What I hadn't expected was how, as a five year old, he was comparing his skiing ability to my skiing ability. I also told him that if he wanted to, on Sunday morning, I would take him to some of the (easier) places where I had been skiing.

What I didn't know at the time was that I was being observed by a woman at an adjacent table near where my son and I were sitting. I was keeping a watchful eye on him while he was playing video games. Someone else was keeping a watchful eye on me. We gathered our disposable plates and utensils and put them in the trash. I helped my son get ready for the afternoon session and we gathered his skis and went back to the ski school office (which was adjacent to where my son and I were staying). After getting him signed up for the afternoon sessions and off with his ski instructor, I dropped off some clothing that we wouldn't use in the afternoon and then returned for my skis.

I remember seeing her standing just downhill of of the cafeteria, already in her skis, looking uphill in my general direction. The reason I noticed her was because she was wearing an intensely pink sweater and black stretch pants and her profile indicated a very nice figure under her ski clothes. But behind her dark glasses, I couldn't tell where she was looking because she could have been looking further up the hill towards the top of the lift as if she was looking for someone or waiting for someone. It was just one of those momentary looks at her where I just noticed and my brain filed it into memory.

After unlocking my skis and dropping them down onto the snow, I stepped into and clicked into the bindings. I pulled the trail map out and looked to see the next trails I wanted to explore during the next two hours before I had to return to reclaim my son from ski school. I pushed off and headed down one of the slopes to the base of the Powder Monkey lift. When I got to the lift, there was no waiting and I skied into position and got on the lift. It was a couple of runs later as I skied into the lift corral area that she skied in behind and then beside me and ask if I wanted to share the ride up on the lift.

As is common when sharing a ride with strangers back up the lift, it was the common "How is your day going?" kind of start. We introduced ourselves and she asked where I was from, I told her that I lived in Raleigh, but that I had grown up in the Washington, DC area. She asked where, and when I told her, it turned out that she lived close to where I grew up and her daughter was attending the high school that I had graduated from. She even knew the family of one of my friends that I graduated with who lived just a few homes away. What a small world. Back in those days, high speed lifts were not common (certainly not at Eastern ski areas) and so you had a slow ride back up to the top of the slopes where the conversations could be more relaxed. She asked what I did (for employment) and I explained I was an engineer for an engineering consulting company.

We talked about skiing, of course, about the conditions here at Snowshoe and the other places we had skied. I mentioned that this was my first time here at Snowshoe, having skied in Virginia (Wintergreen), another resort in West Virginia (Winterplace), and North Carolina (Beech Mountain). I mentioned my skiing out west in Colorado and Oregon. She had skied in Colorado, too. When we got to the top of the lift, we went the same way off the lift and ended up skiing several runs together. She was a better skier than I was in that she looked more comfortable on her skis such that her turns were better controlled than mine (my turns had vastly improved since going to Colorado thr first time because I was getting comfortable committing to the turn and allowing the ski to turn rather than trying to yank the ski around to turn). And I liked watching her while I was skiing slightly behind and beside her.

It was hard to miss the jiggling of her breasts under her sweater as she skied down the slopes and when the chair bounced over the cable guiding wheels at each tower for the lift. It was hard (and I was getting hard) just thinking about what she had under the fabric of the sweater. My mind drifted to stories about couples fucking on the chairlifts (and the difficulty in doing so). I thought about how it would be in a small 6-8 passenger gondola like the ones in Vail. No, it would be far easier to find and isolated area in the wooded glades and safer, too.

She was also checking me out in subtle and not so subtle ways. I knew that my stretch pants fit me well. Her stretch pants fit her well, too. But I could see her eyes well enough through her goggles to see where she was looking and it wasn't at the bindings on my skis. Rather the sun brightness and angle helped delineate the bulge behind the fabric of my 4-way stretch pants.

It was on the third ride back up the chairlift she said that she had seen me in the cafeteria and asked if that was my son who was with me. I told her he was.

"Is his mom here, too?" she asked.

"We had talked about going skiing together but never got around to it," I said. I explained that she wasn't here with us and that she and I were getting divorced.

"Not over skiing, I hope, " she said.

"No, she found a grad student seven years younger than either of us and wanted him to live with her, rather than wanting to live with me," I said.

"So, does he take her skiing?" she asked about her and the grad student in a facetious way.

"No, not at all!" I replied.

"I overheard your conversation with your son," she said. "It was wonderful to watch you address his concerns. Most men I know wouldn't have handled it that way."

She referring to the fact that I gave my son a choice without making him feel guilty that if he didn't go back to ski school, I wouldn't be out here skiing (with her?).

"Well, last year when I went skiing for the first time, he wanted to go with me. I didn't know what I was doing that first time and didn't think it was a good idea. So, I made him a promise that if I decided that skiing was something that I wanted to do more than once, I'd take him this year. And here we are."

I went on to explain that if he didn't like after trying it, then maybe it wasn't for him or wasn't for him at this time.

"He didn't know how many times I fell my first day and finding out that I did a lot of falling made him feel better about it. We'll see how he does this afternoon," I said. We had a brief conversation about parenting views and skills. I pointed that even when I was out here skiing, I kept an eye on the notice board to see if my name was posted to make contact with the ski school or ski patrol.

"I know what you mean," she said. "My daughter is out here somewhere. Probably over on Cupp Run" (Cupp Run is the longest run of the resort on the other side of the ridge). That was the reveal that she had children, too.

"Does your son live with you or with his mom?" she asked. I explained that we had joint custody and briefly told her how that worked.

"You and she must get along," she said.

"Whatever our differences, we agreed to not put our son in the middle of it. It's worked so far.," I said.

I asked if she had more than one child. In addition to her daughter, she had a 15-year old son (who also went to the same high school and was with his father this weekend). She told me that she, too, was divorced and she understood what I was going through. We rode in silence between the next two of the lift towers. Only a few more towers to the top of the lift.

"When do you have to pick up your son?" she asked. It was already 3:15 PM.

Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump. Squeak. Squeak. Squeak. Bump. Bump. Bump. Bump, as the chair passed over the next tower wheels. I watched her breasts bounce and jiggle as we passed over those wheels. The engineer in me thought "torsional vibration in three dimensions." Behind my glacier glasses, I know she couldn't see where my eyes were focused.

"His class is over at 4:00. They want him picked up by 4:15 because they close at 4:30." I said.

She took of her gloves off, and placed her left hand on my right thigh.

"My condo is right near the top of the lift. Would you like to come inside with me (or more likely cum inside me) until his ski school is over?" She pointed over to the row of condominiums. My penis immediately started to get uncomfortably hard behind the fabric and I knew when I got off the lift I would be in need of straightening of what would be an obviously hard and erect cock behind the pants fabric. I was wearing a thong (no panty lines) and I imagined that she was, too, from the absence of any panty lines in her ski pants.

Before I answered, we were approaching the top of the lift. She removed her hand from my thigh as we raised the bar and got ready to disembark. My engorged penis was "caught" in the fold of the fabric at the front of my pants and it was uncomfortable. Particularly as I slid forward on the bench style chair and got ready to slide/ski away from the lift. We slid down the snow ramp away from the top of the ski lift and to the right towards the row of condos. She was skiing in front of me, carrying her poles and her gloves in her right hand. So looped right and then to the left to ski to a stop at a relatively flat point in front of the condominiums. I turned, slowed, and came to a stop beside her (facing the opposite direction). She was on my left, I was on hers.

She looked down and said "I think you have a problem." She reached down with her ungloved left hand to the from of my pants and grabbed hold of my penis through the fabric. "I think I can take care of that for you," as she firmly grasped and rub me so that penis straightened out. Once she "released me," I said "thank you." She rubbed my cock through the fabric and down the inside of my left thigh. Standing in this position, what she was doing was largely hidden from sight of the condos by her body. And we were far enough from the top of the lift and turned in such a way that it probably couldn't be seen from the lift area.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Did I cum inside her six times or only five? Well, to tell you the truth, I'd forgotten myself in all the excitement. But being that I had a 184 mm Magnum penis, one of the most filling penises in the world and would blow the back of her pussy full up with cum, you gotta' ask yourself a question: 'Do I feel lucky?'

(Based on the Dirty Harry movie quote)

It was certainly tempting, though I was going to decline. There was a part of me that thought I needed to be a dad for my son, not a younger guy accepting a willing fuck from a divorced woman in her mid-40's. Don't get me wrong, I had some very wonderful sexual experiences with women in their 40's and early 50's when I was 19 years old that "used me" as their "boy toy." But I wasn't a parent then. Now I was.

At the moment she/we heard "Mom!" from up the corner of the condo. It was her daughter returning from her afternoon on the other side of the ridge.

"Damn!" her mother said quietly. She took her hand away from my crotch and then waved to her daughter. Her daughter skied down to us while her mom let herself slide backwards a little so that her daughter could stop and be able to see and talk to both of us. We were introduced and her mom told her that I went to her high school when I lived there.

Following her eyes, I was certain that she saw the shadow of long flat bulge in the front of my ski pants indicating that I had a hard and erect cock behind the fabric. I doubted that she could see her mom rubbing my crotch when she first came around the building. But maybe she knew that her mother would do such a thing. I remember thinking, somewhat sarcastically, "Great! Another 18 year old female senior high school student in the mix!"

We stood outside and talked briefly. Her daughter was wearing white ski pants and a turtleneck sweater. To me she looked nearly as well endowed as her mom.

"I'm going to make at least one more run before I have to pickup my son," I said to gracefully exit the scene.

"I'll go with you," her daughter volunteered. Her mom said she was calling it a day.

"Are you eating at the restaurant again tonight?" she asked before we left. I told her we were at about 6:00. I figured that my son had a fairly strenuous day for a 5-year old and that he'd be sacking out pretty early, even if we did go to the pool later, after dinner. I invited them to come join us if they wished.

With that her daughter and I pushed off down the slope. Her daughter was a great skier and the run we were skiing down was easy for her. She had been skiing on the other side of the ridge where the moguls could grow to the size of VW Beetles or to the size of Greyhound buses (as the joke went). A much faster and more confident skier than I was, she was descending and then stopping and waiting for me to catch up. We made the crossover to ride the Ball Hooter lift to the top of the ridge and we had a nice chat on the way back up to the top. She asked me what the high school was like when I was there (only three grades instead of four, and many more students than were attending and graduating in 1986. We talked about where we had skied. She had been skiing since she was young.

At last we reached the top of the lift and turned to the right to ski down the beginner's learning slope. I could see the children's ski school class gathered near the ski school waiting for the parents to show up. We skied down to the group. My son was already out of his skis and having a good time with some other children. I asked the ski instructor how he did in the afternoon and he said he did much better and had much more fun. My son saw me and clomped over to me in his ski boots while I gave the ski instructor a tip. I introduced him and the daughter. My son wanted to tell me all about what he did in the afternoon and the big news was that he hardly fell at all. He was very excited about this. After a couple of minutes of listening, the daughter said she was going to head back to the condo and that maybe we'd see each other at dinner. I watched as she skied down the inclined grade. I found myself having sexual thoughts about her like I had for Abby and started to get hard again. I quickly turned my thoughts away from that. We picked up all his gear and went inside to the lodge.

More NCAA tournament basketball was on the television. This was the weekend to go from the Sweet 16 to the Elite 8 and then the Final Four. My son wanted to know when we were going to the pool. I suggested that we do that after dinner and that we get cleaned up after a day of skiing. It didn't take him long to feel like he wanted to take a nap. I told him to lay down and take a nap and I'd wake him so that we could go to dinner.

He was a "tired puppy" having all the excitement and activity that's associated with a first day of skiing. He was pretty groggy when I woke him up but once he was awake, he was ready to go. When we hiked up through the buildings to the restaurant, the women I had met and her daughter were there waiting for us. I don't remember what I had for dinner but I remember my son had spaghetti with meatballs and lots of parmesan cheese. It was a pleasant dinner for the four of us. We didn't talk about divorces, or separations, or child custody, or living arrangements. We talked about where we had been. I talked some more about what my job was. etc. Just a pleasant dinner together.

We all spent some time together in the in the indoor swimming pool and hot tub area after dinner. There was no implication of a mother-daughter tryst. The other consideration, of course, was my new lover back in North Carolina. In retrospect, some of the concerns that she had about my ex-wife returning extended to what might happen out on the ski slopes. In the end, however, I chose to be the responsible dad, and the responsible lover, and took my son back to our room where he promptly sacked out while I watched basketball.

The next morning was bright and sunny and we were up early to get breakfast. I packed our suitcases so I could put them in my car later before check-out time. We were going to ski in the morning and into the early afternoon before heading back to Raleigh. And so, my son and I had our first skiing day together as I guided him down some of the easier terrain that I had explored the day before. We were greeted by the mother and daughter at one of the lifts as they skied into the lift station from another more advanced slope. We chatted for a few minutes at the top of the lift and they skied off together for another run while my son and I went (cautiously) down one of the easier runs. We saw each other in passing on the slopes throughout the morning.

I checked out of the room before lunch and placed our bags in my car. After lunch, we went back out to ski some more. Actually, in this phase of my son's skiing experience, I was mostly above and behind him, both watching him and guarding him from out of control skiers. After he had traveled a certain way down the slope, I would ski down to him and then we'd begin the next stretch of the descent. There were places where we really could ski together side be side. But skiing slowly with relatively long skis can also be (and was) hard work. We ended up skiing most of the day. We finally did that "last run" and skied down "Skidder" one last time before ending our day and turning in his rental equipment. When we drove out of Snowshoe, we could see Cupp Run on the other side of the ridge. It was long and brightly lit in the afternoon sun. We talked about being able to ski that run together one day.

We reached Roanoke before sunset and had dinner. We called my ex-wife so that he could talk to his mom and tell her about our trip and to arrange it so that my son spent the night with me, since we'd be getting back around 10:00. He slept much of the way back to Raleigh and when we got to my house, he went directly to bed. Bath time would be a shower in the morning before going to school. Of course, when I returned home, I called my new lover to let her knw that we'd had made it back safely and that we had a good time. I didn't share what happened on the chairlift, at the top of the lift, or the invitation from this woman I had skied with briefly that afternoon since nothing had happened as a result of it. But after getting a shower and laying in bed, I reflected on how complex (though exciting) my life had become since meeting Catie.