25 Years Ago….

I was in Telluride, Colorado, the leader of a Sierra Club ski trip from Cincinnati.  The group was small and the only one I remember there was my dear friend Karen, who had flown in from Alaska to join us.  

I had been in Telluride the summer before.  The Sierra Club had held a national meeting in Vail and after the meeting I had taken off on my own, driving a 1974 Karmin Ghia on a road trip through Colorado.  I wanted to check out Telluride as I had skied most of the major ski resorts in Colorado and Telluride was next on my list of destinations. 

We planned to be in Telluride for a week and I was having a blast with Karen.  She had never skied downhill and I wasn’t that great at the sport, but there is nothing like being in the mountains of Colorado, on a clear, crisp day with bright blue skies and mountains in every direction you look.  I could ski the green and blue runs with Karen as it didn’t take long for her to catch on. 

Early in the week we had spent the entire day on the mountain and when it was time to come down Karen was so tired she could not stay up on her skis.  We took the easy way down, using an access road for the mountain, but still she was having trouble.  A ski patrol guy came along, saw what was going on and assisted Karen by harnessing her up to him in ropes, and reining her much like you would a horse.  We had a good laugh all the way down the mountain.

On Tuesday night of that week we went into Fly Me to the Moon Saloon, just to check it out.  I wasn’t impressed.  The place was quiet, no action at all, so we quickly left and found a more lively location for our Après ski evening.

By Thursday, March 3, 1988 we had expanded our circle of skiing friends beyond our immediate group.  Word was spreading on the mountain that the place to be that evening was Fly Me to the Moon Saloon.  There was supposed to be a super band playing.  I had no interest, but Karen pressed for us to go.  I was being somewhat bitchy but finally relented. 

We arrived and found a long line of customers waiting to get in, I was bitching, didn’t want to wait in the line.  Word came up the line that there was a $5 cover charge, I was bitching, didn’t want to pay the cover.  Generally speaking, I was not being much fun at all.  Finally we got to the door of the Saloon and there was the doorman.  I immediately stopped bitching. 

I don’t believe in fairy tales, but something happened the instant our eyes met.  There is no way to explain it, because not only did it hit me like a sledge hammer, but it hit Pete too.  The bar was full, there was only one table left, and it was immediately behind Pete where he stood at the door.  He moved us to that table, didn’t charge us the cover and then it was obvious that we were the object of his attention for the evening. 

Within a few minutes Karen said, “I think he likes you.”  And I said back to her, “I think the feeling is mutual.”  He flirted, he bought us drinks, he carried on like a kid, and it worked.  Friday night we went back and had Pete’s attention for the evening.  Saturday night we went back and Karen left early while I waited for Pete to get off.  He drove me back to my motel and we sat in his car for a couple of hours, just talking.  It was the only time I heard him play classical music in his car.  I think he was trying to impress me. 

We were scheduled to leave on Sunday.  Karen’s flight to Alaska was to leave early in the day.  My flight back to Cincinnati was after lunch.  Pete suggested he pick me up after Karen left and give me a tour of Telluride and then take me to the airport.  I said yes. 

The next morning I saw Karen off at the airport and then I got a message from the motel that Pete couldn’t meet me…something had come up.  I was disappointed but thought it was probably just as well, since nothing could come of this brief encounter.  I would just go home and forget it.   

So I ended up taking a taxi to the airport and of course, it being a ski trip, I had tons of luggage; between the ski gear, the ski wear and everything else, I would have to make a couple of trips from the taxi to the terminal. 

As I headed to the terminal with my first load I looked behind me, and there was Pete, carrying the rest of my gear.  He had a big grin on his face.  For the first and only time in my life I was so grateful that my flight was more than an hour late.  We sat in terminal and continued the talking.  And in all that time, Thursday, Friday, Saturday nights and Sunday morning, he never touched me, never held my hand, put his arm around my shoulder or kissed me.  Finally it was time for departure.  We exchanged phone numbers and addresses, and that’s how it began. 

Twenty-five years later we have been happily married 22 years and still going strong.  In so many ways it just gets better and better.  For anyone who doesn’t believe in ‘love at first sight’ we are a living testament to the fact that it does exist and can work.  You just have to trust the Fates.