After our marriage Bob invited Jan and me to stay at his cabin in the mountains outside of Denver and goskiing . Th cabin was in Montezuma Colorado and was in a dream like setting. It was a snow covered old time cabin with an outhouse. It was heated by an old stove into which we put large chunks of coal at bedtime. If you wonder about the cold, one night we left a martini on the kitchen table and in the morning it was frozen solid.The midnight trips to the out house were legendary as was the view of the full moon through the opendoor while sitting on the throne. Bob kept us going with games and an exercise piece which consistedof a board and a solid cylinder of wood. He could ride the board with simple ease. We never did get the hang of it. His love of the place was obvious.The stove actually worked pretty well and we successfully cooked some meals after Bob had to go back to work.And the fireplace helped keep th inside somewhat warm. We kept trying to climb in the fire pit.The skiing was another issue. The ski area was called Arapahoe Basin and was just a short drive from the cabin. We had never done it before and Bob was our instructor. He was a member of the Ski Patrol and was a real expert. We started on the Poma Lift on Bunny slope and after an initial catastrophe we were able to snow plow down the hill. The problem was that we couldn't breathe and had done no working out before arrival. The catastrophe was me somehow falling down with my head downhill and my skis crossed on themselves behind me up the hill. As I gasped for air I thought that this did not seem to be as much fun as I expected. We had rented skis and boots and the boots had a safety strap. On my second trip on the ski lift up the big hill to the gentlest slope available I looked down and found that my ski had fallen off and was dangling off my ankle. I was able to get it off and into my hands but the embarrassment quotient was off the scale as I was helped off the chair at the top. Bob was an excellent teacher but neither of us were very apt pupils. We went several more times and we were able to get down the hill (much to our amazement) but neither Jan nor myself were bitten by the ski bug. We were just too scared.