Skiing, sleeping and Dead Iceman Day

Well there is no snow in Boulder so we piled into the car and made a little expedition to Eldora- the nearest ski resort...a motley crew..half asleep, but eager to see some snow and get the low down on classes. Everyone in Boulder skis...downhill, cross country. If that doesn't appeal you can go snow shoeing. for those of you in blissful ignornce, this involves putting a contraption that looks like the offspring of a crampon and a tennis raquet on each boot and walking or running on snowy trails...strangely this actually probably appeals to me more than skiing so I might give it a go sometime...watch this space!
Thanks to the early start we got there in time to book Maja into a full days ski school. She joined a little group of tiddlers (she was obviously the tiddliest of all!)

They were all beginners and were quickly divided into 2 even smaller groups with an eager high fiving camp- counsellor type instructor! Maja needed those high fives at first, but made progress as the day progressed.

So what are parents doing while child is skiing? Well most go off and ski, but some wait around in a large cafe, where for 6 bucks you can access wi fi and use your laptop to your hearts content....and drink coffee...and eat....and eat.
Jonathan spent most of the day on the ski school sidelines encouraging and helping. I am not known for my love of cold so I spent most of the time in the cafe chatting to other parents. At one point I fell fast asleep (I am becoming quite adept at sleeping in odd and public places) and slept for an hour or so. I really hope I wasn't snoring!
Which brings me to the last subject for this blog...dead iceman day. in the course of conversation with a friendly couple on the same lunch table as us, Jonathan enquired about a funny little town called Nederland that we had driven through on the way to Eldora.
Apparently nothing much happens there but they have this day of celebration called...Dead Iceman Day. the story goes that a Swedish guy living in Nederland died and there was some kind of beaurocratic nightmare involved in sending his body back to Sweden to be buried....so his son packed him in ice while the wrangling continued and continued to pack him in ice ,I think in a sort of igloo. Two years passed (with, one assumes, Old Dad preserved in the ice) and eventually it was all agreed and he was sent off to Sweden to be buried. Since then, the anniversary is celebrated as...you guessed it..Dead Iceman Day. I wonder what they do? All suggestions posted please! (Apologies for any inaccuacies in this story. I'm relaying it as I remember it....)