For Christmas, Jason gave me a trip to Big Sky Resort in Montana. There are 10 amazing ski resorts within about an hour of us, so why drive six hours away? For the curious, exploring new slopes always holds appeal even if, in the end, you’d prefer your familiar favorites. Did I prefer my familiar favorites? Another thousand words or so, and I may tell you.

Speaking of new slopes, there are quite a few to get lost on at Big Sky. Big Sky contains 4,366 feet of elevation gain in 5,800 massive ridable acres. That’s considerably more acreage than our usual resorts, Brighton’s 1,050, Solitude’s 1,200, or even Snowbird’s 2,500.

Since Big Sky has 24 lifts, not including surface lifts, and 150 named runs, picking our first route was completely overwhelming. Eventually, we decided to take the Ramcharger lift to El Dorado and then Southern Comfort with the thought of getting on a run called Africa. We made it to Nile, a fun tree run with more rolling wind drifts than tree pack, but missed our turnoff from Pacifier to hit Africa. Apparently, the Nile doesn’t flow through Africa like my schoolteachers told me. In all honesty, I didn’t like Pacifier much; it was just a long traverse with lots of people and subpar, crusty snow.

The bulk of our day was more pleasing though. We took Swift Current to Calamity Jane, which offered more satisfaction and less people. Then, we took Powder Seeker to the base of Lone Mountain wanting a better view of the peak’s famous triple-diamond chute, The Big Couloir. Lone Mountain is the most iconic feature of Big Sky, which is probably why it is pictured on their logo. At 11,160 feet, it puts Big Sky in the 25-highest elevation resorts in North America with some of Utah’s resorts right behind it. Incidentally, The Big Couloir looked treacherous with thin icy channels layered between dark fingers of dacite. You won’t catch me longing for some of that Big action.

From the base of Lone Mountain, we rode down Upper Morningstar and found the views better than the snow quality as the surface was brittle compared to elsewhere. Afterward, we tried Mr. K and then Mr. K again, which we found an enjoyable, lengthy green. We were surprised to encounter it uncrowded unlike the other greens we had traveled earlier. Unfortunately, the agreeableness of Mr. K was diminished by the un-agreeableness of my toes. The digits on my right foot were hurting unbearably, though I had no idea why. We had stopped earlier for me to take off my boots because my toes were aching so bad, but that didn’t keep them from commencing the pain just an hour later. My last trip down Mr. K was mighty excruciating. As I am typically the last person to notice or acknowledge that I am in pain, it would be safe to assume that my toes were screaming like a group of howler monkeys fighting over a squishy banana. Even with two breaks, one to remove excess layers and another to give my foot a breather, we were out on the mountain for more than four hours.

The next day, I was determined not to let my toes decrease my enjoyment of Big Sky. I took 800 mg of ibuprofen as a preventative measure. Still, a couple times down Lobo later, my foot was starting its same painful pattern. I opted to remove my socks altogether to give my toes more room hoping that would partially appease them. Jason initially laughed at this idea, but I didn’t let that keep me from doing what turned out to be a brilliant maneuver. My discomfort immediately decreased. (I also may have stuck my feet in the snow.) The extra room provided enough relief for us to do a full afternoon of boarding with only a 30-minute break. In total, we boarded for about three and half hours. We did Lobo twice, Lobo Meadows twice, revisited Calamity Jane twice, and finished with Mr. K so I wouldn’t have bad feelings after my throbbing the day before. Notice a pattern? I like my runs like Noah likes his animals. I told Jason I was happy to explore, but if we found paths we liked, I wanted to repeat them at least once. The first time I do a run, I am usually slow while assessing upcoming terrain. After that, I go faster and just enjoy. Reasonably, I wanted to get to the part where I go faster and just enjoy.

Did we sort out what was wrong with my toes? Yes, after more troubleshooting we concluded the obvious. Unusually high temperatures with their corresponding foot expansions, thick socks, and new (apparently tighter) boots were the combined culprits. Putting lots of pressure on your toesies when they are already squished too snugly in rigid foot attire does not increase their satisfaction with their circumstances.

Speaking of those high temps, our first day at Big Sky was cloudy with a high of 47 degrees. It started out fairly icy but improved greatly by midafternoon. Our second day was sunny and reached 53 degrees. The snow was quite slushy, excessively so in spots. For March at Big Sky’s elevation, the weather seemed to echo the unfortunate truth of a warming planet.

What did we think of Big Sky coming from our powder snobbery as Utah natives? Big Sky is beautiful. The equipment and staff are first rate. (We rode an eight-person heated bubble lift for the first time and approved.) The runs are long; they just keep going and going. Lone Mountain looms picturesquely above many of those runs. However, the snow isn’t as good. Sorry Montana, you just ain’t got Utah’s powder pizzazz. Surprisingly, with only 29 inches mid-mountain and 53 at Headwaters, the terrain was less rock infested and obstacle laden than the slopes at some of our beloved Utah resorts would be with 30 inches more. Is Big Sky more diligent about grooming, or does it merely have a boulder deficiency? It certainly does not have a patron deficiency as it was quite crowded in some areas despite its spaciousness.

Our conclusion? Big Sky was worth the drive. We enjoyed discovering its new terrain while, contradictorily, I missed my accustomed favorites. We felt we only saw 2% of the resort in the two days we were there. Further exploration would be needed to fully assess the big picture at Big Sky; we are willing to do that research.

Years ago, in the B.C., I gave Jason ticket to see Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Parts One and Two in San Francisco for Christmas. Just weeks before our scheduled trip, COVID blasted normalcy into oblivion, and there was nothing to see. After two years, and rescheduling multiple times, we were finally able to have that magical experience. Further, we were able to enjoy it with friends. Sometimes, even delays can lead to charming moments.

Because Harry Potter and the Cursed Child was “reimagined” from a two-part to a one-part production for U.S. audiences late in 2021, we found ourselves with two extra tickets to the performance. Inviting a couple friends, and fans, to join us seemed like the best use for these. They arrived later. Here’s what happened first.

Jason and I reached San Francisco in the evening and went straight to Mensho Tokyo for some ramen. Like all authentic ramen shops, this one had a line outside winding down the sidewalk. We had to wait for about half an hour for a table, but it was worth it. We both had the tori paitan ramen, a chicken-based broth, and the spicy enoki chips. Jason said the meal was a close second to the ramen he ate in Sapporo.

The next day was uncharacteristically sunny for San Francisco. With a couple jackets, it felt pleasant. We didn’t want to waste the warmth since temperatures were in the 20s back home. So, we took a walk down the Batteries to Bluffs Trail in Presidio after grabbing pastries at the B Patisserie, a scrumptious bakery. While a portion of this path was closed in order for crews to repair some recent storm damage, we were able to reach the remains of Battery Crosby, which operated from 1900 to 1943. It was equipped with two guns that could shoot up to eight miles to protect underwater mines. Since we couldn’t go farther on this trail, we hiked down the Sand Ladder to Baker Beach. From that scenic stretch of sand and stone, the views of the Golden Gate Bridge were impressive. The naked old man bum we also viewed was less impressive.

Afterward, we spent a couple hours at the Legion of Honor. The Legion of Honor houses works by Monet, Rembrandt, Rubens, Goya, Cezanne, and Renoir among many others. Its collection of Rodin sculptures is one of the largest in the United States with 90 pieces, including The Thinker. Even without the masterpieces inside considered, the building, a three-quarter-scale replica of Palais de la Legion d’Honneur in Paris, is a work itself with ornate neoclassical details typical of the Beaux-Arts style. The museum was too big for us to make it through entirely in the time we had available, but it wasn’t so large as to be completely overwhelming.

That evening, our friends arrived, and we finally saw Harry Potter and the Cursed Child. Worth the wait? It was heartwarming and exhilarating, though time travel always creates a bit of a plot mess in my opinion. The special effect “magic” was remarkable and the play’s best part. At 3.5 hours, it felt a little long. However, if you are an enthusiast, I’m sure you would enjoy it. We did.

We started out early on a long walk to get breakfast at Brenda’s French Soul Food the next morning. The shrimp and grits were worth the human feces hopscotch we had to play on the way. Afterward, we headed to the San Francisco Cable Car Museum. There, we got to see the tension sheaves, gears, motors, idler sheaves, and gear reducers that power this unique antique transportation form. Consequently, we couldn’t resist grabbing a cable car back to our hotel after a stop in Chinatown to pick up some treats at the Golden Gate Fortune Cookie Factory.

Later that afternoon, the Gregangelo Museum, said to be San Francisco’s #1 immersive art experience, captivated us for two hours as we deciphered the Riddle of the Sphinx. We went through the stages of life, seeing the world from the eyes of a child, adult, and senior in the Gardens of Youth, Sensuality, and Wisdom. Eventually, we faced our unavoidable deaths, which gave us a hankering for some kouign-amanns. Another stop at the B Patisserie laid that craving to rest.

Much of the Riddle of the Sphinx is based on introspection, asking yourself some of the difficult questions we rarely take time to contemplate. Amongst them was, “How do you want to be remembered?” In answering this, I was reminded of Dr. Who and how we are all just stories in the end. I hope my stories will inspire others to be bold, kind, curious, and adventurous. That they make others feel loved and confident in their ability to achieve monumental changes.

Dinner was not just a meal but also entertainment that night at Birdsong. Over 3+ hours, we were served a dozen tasting courses we watched a host of chefs and porters prepare. After about nine of those, I didn’t know how I could eat any more, but I managed. My favorite courses were the root broth with braised wakame and smoked mussels, the Dungeness crab with smoked pine nuts and yogurt, the chamomile sorbet, and the Mount Tam cheesecake topped with a slice of Shinko pear and buttermilk ice cream. We were able to obtain a reservation to this highly rated establishment much easier than expected because of viral doubts. At that point, seated diners were still down 40% from normal in San Francisco due to lingering hesitations regarding COVID. We didn’t hesitate to take advantage of others’ hesitations.

The fruition of a two-year-old plan was rewarding. Harry Potter, we meet at last! Also, Thinker, we meet at last… and Sphinx… and naked old man bum. Boy, this trip entailed a lot of unusual introductions! I must lead a charmed, postponed life.