Poor Grades

National Children’s Book Week is almost
coming to a close, and so is my Blogathon 2010. If you haven’t
guessed by now, I give cave tours in Glenwood Springs, Colorado. I’ve
also written and illustrated a new children’s book entitled “Dad,
the Tooth Fairy Didn’t Come!” www.jerrybegly.com/tooth. What else
is going on in my life? I teach skiing in Aspen, Colorado. I’m
building a 3400sf. Log chalet off the grid high in the Colorado
Rockies. My 7 children, my wife, and I are building it all
ourselves. Literally all of it (with very few exceptions). I enjoy
jeeping, hiking, mountain climbing, fishing, playing my banjo, and a
multitude of other pastimes. When it comes to grading me on life, I
get all “F”s. Faith, Family, Friends, Fun are the mainstays of my
existence. Oh, and Food. Thanks for the Fajitas, today, guys…

Spiderman at 8500 ft.

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The adventure isn’t over, yet. Last week I turned 52, and yesterday I was hanging by a climbing rope with a Holehawg drill and air impact wrench installing braces on the south end of my house. The braces are triangular, and weigh in the neighborhood of 100 lbs. each.
To be quite honest, installing the braces is something that I’ve dreaded doing for over two years. My wife and son, Caleb, and I have discussed how to do it for all of that time. Not having a deck to set up scaffolding on has been the major obstacle.  I knew all along that I’d have to hang from a rope to put them up.  
Climbing ropes aren’t new to me. I have several. I’ve been a climber for many years, and a mountain guide for a few. I’ve seen the good, the bad, and the ugly. But using climbing ropes on the side of my house with drills, impact wrenches, and SAWS was a little bit weird. (Yes, I cut plywood with a circular saw just a few inches from my rope during the installation.)
Needless to say, the braces went up, and that part of living life large is over.  My son, Caleb, and my daughter, Heidi were up on a scaffolding, around the corner of the house, handing me tools, and beams. 
I was Spiderman, doing my thing on the rope. “Thank you, Jesus” kept coming out of my lips whenever a big beam got attached by the 12 inch lag bolts. I didn’t want to fall 25 feet backwards onto rocks with a log on top of me.
Living life large comes real natural when your home is up in the mountains.  If you chuck the “comforts” of city life, flatland life, and on-the-grid life, you can’t help but live an interesting life. 
The other night, I was awake at midnight, thinking how much work needs to be done on our house before the snow flies. I couldn’t sleep, so I got up, made a fire, fixed a snack, and sat down in front of the wood stove to make a schedule. Building contractors make building schedules all of the time. To get the outside of the house ready before winter will require massive work, 6 days a week, for 6 weeks.  
So far, I’m only slightly behind schedule. But for the next 5 weeks, it will be an accelerated schedule for me and my family.  
Don’t ask me how the house is coming. The answer is way too complicated. People who know nothing about the design or building of our house look at it and say, “Oh, all you gotta do is shingle it.” If I listed the things I need to do before it’s shingled, it would take up the entire blog. 
But don’t feel sorry for me. Last night as the sun was going down, I was hand peeling logs for the porch posts. I was warm, the sun was on my face, and the only sound I could hear was the wind clanging the chimes in the tree and whistling softly in the branches.

A Dynamite Ski Lesson

We had just skied down one of the most difficult chutes in the Aspen area and were taking a break. Milan was taking photos of the descent route, and everyone was pumped. We were still standing on a “double black diamond run”, but this spot was not the steepest.

As a ski instructor, you get to see the most beautiful scenery, tackle the most difficult challenges, and meet the most interesting people. Saxon and Milan were two of those people. They were two more guys in a litany of crazy Aussies- Australians who have been in my ski classes. Saxon liked digging snow caves (he skied with a shovel and survival gear) and Milan liked dropping off of rocks.

The short rest break was over, and it was time to ski. “Watch out over there.” I said. “That big black crater is a ‘bomb’ hole.” A bomb hole is what is left when the Ski Patrol throws dynamite to try and start an avalanche. In this case, the snow was already stable enough (even though we were standing in 12 inches of powder) to not slide.

“I’m going to ski through it,” Saxon said.

“OK,” I replied, “But don’t fall into it, you’ll get chemical tangents all over you.”

“What do you mean?” Saxon asked.

“The residue from the dynamite will stick to your ski clothes. If you wear that outfit when you fly home, and there are ‘bomb sniffing’ machines at the airport, you’ll set them off!”

Next thing I know, Saxon is rolling in the bomb crater, laughing, and picking up blackened snow and rubbing it all over his body. So much for the avoidance idea.

My ski school clients have the wackiest lessons you’ve ever seen. One time I had two teen brothers from the east coast. We duct-taped a smoke bomb onto a ski pole and skied a crazy zig zag through a crowded trail near the bottom of the mountain. We’ve dug snow caves, roasted marshmallows, launched hot dogs on bottle rockets, somersaulted off of cornices, skied through chest-deep powder, dropped off of frozen waterfalls, over water ponds, and occasionally learned something. Just kidding. You will always learn something in my class.

I love teaching skiing to people who’ve never even seen snow before. I do it a lot. To paraphrase the once famous mountain guide, Gaston Rebufet: “The joy I found when first ascending the peaks is now renewed every time I guide someone into the mountains and I see the joy and wonder on their faces.”

You can now book me for private ski lessons online. The process is really easy. Check out my ski homepage. Come to Aspen and ski with me. It’ll be your best trip ever. Trust me, I’m your guide.

Cheers,

Jerry “Mad Max” Begly