Even under dark skies, big eyes are impossible to mistake.
I saw a lot of them early Saturday morning — primarily on big, burly dudes watching my wife whiz by them along the route of the Grand Traverse ski race from Crested Butte to Aspen. Their surprise by being passed, however, was nothing compared to the shock at what she was towing on the end of a 10-foot bungee cord: me.
I was tired even before the race started at the stroke of midnight. Just thinking about a 40-mile ski made me crumble like day-old bread. But Leora is an animal. She won one big ski race a month before the traverse. And finished second in another. So, I knew I had to come up with a plan to level the playing field if we ever hoped to reach Aspen as a team.
To read more please log in or subscribe to the digital edition. http://www.etypeservices.com/Gunnison%20Country%20TimesID233/