(Dan Chudzinski)
As winter break quickly approached during finals week, I couldn't have been more excited for the Miami University Ski Club's trip to Copper Mountain in Colorado the following week. An entire semester of imagining six days of skiing the powder of the Rocky Mountains and relaxing in resort hot tubs was soon to become a reality.
While the majority of ski club students were enduring a 26-hour bus ride as transportation from Oxford, Ohio, to Copper Mountain, Colo., three of my friends and I decided it would be much wiser to forgo the misery of bus travel and opt for the "easy way out." Dan, Jessica, Nikki and I decided to fly from Cleveland out to Denver and beat the buses to the mountain. Little did we know how large of a mistake this would soon become.
As we boarded our plane Saturday afternoon, the four of us were thrilled to know that we were still more than five hours ahead of the Miami bus.
When we landed in Denver, the ski careers Jessica and I had packed had been cut open, making transportation of the skis a lot more difficult. Luckily, this was the least of our worries at the time.
As we settled into our condo in Copper, the four of us were excited to explore the town. Little did we know that the majority of the town closed by 5 p.m. and there was absolutely no nightlife in the ski town of Copper.
Tuesday, Jessica and I decided to take the two-hour free bus ride to Breckinridge for a night out. As soon as we stepped off the bus we realized the awesome potential of the town. Once we returned to Copper, we told Dan and Nikki that we just had to visit again before the trip concluded. At that point in time, it was impossible for us to recognize the irony of such a comment.
As part of the Miami Ski Club package, students on the trip would receive two optional days of skiing. One day at Winter Park and the other day at Vail. Sadly, due to a snowstorm, the road to Winter Park was closed and the trip had to be canceled.
The Vail trip the next day, however, was not canceled. As the buses traveled to Vail and the snow began to fall, I was beginning to get excited for the day of skiing ahead of us. I did not know how much the next 24 hours would actually bring to my ski vacation.
While in Vail, the snowstorm was not letting up. As my friends and I went down newly powdered trails, the idea that we may not be able to drive back didn't occur to us until we received a phone call stating how bad the snowstorm really was.
Luckily, the buses were able to pull out of Vail and, with the help of obnoxious tire chains, trek back to our condos in Copper. On the way back, however, news was coming in via cell phones that the blizzard was worse than expected. Denver International Airport was closed through Thursday.
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While some people began to worry about their flights being canceled, I figured I was a veteran in air travel. Our flight was Friday morning. Surely the airport would be open before then and we would have priority over stranded passengers on our booked flight.
When we purchased our plane tickets, we knew we would be homeless for one night. The Miami buses were leaving Thursday and our rented condo went with. We decided in advance that we would be picked up late by the Rocky Mountain Express shuttle bus and sleep the night in the airport terminal, Tom Hanks style. As of Wednesday night, our plan remained the same. With little worry, I went to sleep prepared to check out in the morning.
As we left our rooms Thursday morning all was still according to plan. According to Continental Airlines, our flight had not been canceled yet and the airport was soon to be open. Not knowing that within 30 minutes we would be scrambling to find a place to stay.
As we boarded a bus to take us to the main office of the resort, a traveler informed us that Denver's airport was closed until 2 p.m. Friday and all flights were canceled until at least that time. We needed to find other arrangements and fast.
Becoming four of more than 3,000 stranded passengers trying to get out of the Denver airport right before Christmas was not something we wanted to be a part of. Luckily, three of us were Jewish.
While Nikki was booking a flight out of Montrose, Colo. on Christmas Eve, the earliest flight the rest of us were able to book was Dec. 27, six days later. We needed to find a place to stay for six nights.
A Hanukkah miracle was upon us. With absolute luck, Daniel and Jessica's close family friends had an empty condo available in Breckinridge. Since the people who were going to use it couldn't fly into Denver, the condo was available for our emergency situation. Our second visit to Breckenridge was not going to be a short one. It definitely beat sleeping on the floors of an airport terminal.
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