It wasn’t exactly Olympic-caliber luge. And I think I’ve gone faster down the big hill at Lake San Isabel on my sled dubbed the “Widow Maker.” But I’d be hard-pressed to come up with a more fun time in sliding down a snow-covered slope than we did during Christmas week at the Copper Mountain ski resort.

My brother-in-law Kirk spearheaded the effort to get the Fischers, Ericksens, and Sweeneys up to the mountains to do something fun just after Christmas. So the day after the day after Christmas, the 12 of us piled into the Fischers’ two cars and made the drive from Niwot, up Interstate 70 and over the continental divide, to Copper Mountain to take on their snow tubing hill.

Unfortunately, Kirk got tied-up with a conference call during the drive up and spent the day trying to sort out some difficulties for his work with his trusty Blackberry from a nearby Starbucks. Monica and my sister-in-law Laura opted out of the tubing as well (although their excuses for not partaking in the fun were a tad more opaque than Kirk’s). In any case, we nine boldest, ranging in age from four (Reylana) to nearly 50 (yours truly) checked our fears at the gate, and had a grand time sliding down the hill.

Lastly, kudos to my nieces Reylana and Anna for bravery above and beyond their years. Those chicas were fearless!