Quitting The Ski Retreat

The Ski Retreat won. And then it didn’t.

A big winter storm system came east across the midwest and blanketed our route from Chicago to south central Wisconsin with warnings of blowing snow and hazardous travel conditions. I read all the warnings and all the forecasts with my team of leaders, and then around noon I emailed the parents it was cancelled. Too risky to drive 20 teenagers through a winter storm, lofty theological sentiments about communion be damned.

Then I called the house rental, the van rental, and the ski resort and cancelled all our bookings. Even our Saturday night dinner at Upper Crust Pizzaria: cancelled.

There’s something simply doesn’t sit right about killing a ski weekend for . . . snow.

One thought on “Quitting The Ski Retreat

  1. Well, when you can’t get to the hills, you can’t ski. I do see the odd way it sits — rather like “I can’t swim, I’m too damp.” But I’m glad everybody’s safe. PS — How about a post about why your headlines have become numbers?

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