Expect the Unexpected

Two weekends ago we had the opportunity to stay at a ski resort. Being "from" Colorado, I thought I knew what this entailed. I was wrong.
Jim's company was sponsoring this little weekend on the account of a client having a cross country ski race (Kangaroo Hoppet) and Jim and his coworker doing a little PR and support. His coworker was going to be our chauffeur, chaperone and tour guide. Yay! We were excited.

We were excited with nothing to worry about until she called us at 8am on the day we were to leave to say she was sick. Of course. She had been up all night, blah blah blah. Great. Now what? Everyone thought is was still a terrific idear for us to go. The accommodations had been paid for, we need only rent a car, the rest would be a piece of cake.
Right.
The logistics were a bit detailed. We needed a 4 wheel drive vehicle, as the road could be dodgy. All the regulars (Avis & Budget) were sold out. We went with a little hole in the ground, literally, rental place.*
We were told we also needed to hire "chains." Chains, like what truckers use on I70 for really serious weather?? Where do you get them? And what were we getting ourselves into? We found out chains could be hired closer to the mountain. It was actually illegal for you not to have them in your vehicle once you got up to a certain point on the road. Pat, at the ski and chain hire place, said we probably wouldn't need them (he was right). Pat had also been to Aspen, stating "it's amazing how much better those mountains are." Jim and I exchanged glances.
We had to stop at the Hoppet headquarters in Mt. Beauty (at the base of the mountain) to assist with some last minute software questions. We also decided to eat there as it was getting dark and we didn't know what to expect at the "resort".
We arrived at Falls Creek, not seeing much in the way of snow on the entire journey, except for on the roadway to get to our condo. Turns out, if there is snow on the road to the accommodations, you can not drive on it. How does this all work?? What do we do?
All cars stopped for an attendant standing in the road. We were informed that we should have stopped at what looked like a tollgate to get our parking pass. Having come many windy miles in the dark and not eager to turn around, the semi-helpful woman told us we could come back to the Info Desk in the morning and get it sorted then. Mind you, we are completely baffled at this point. We can't drive to our condo. We have to park the car & carry all of our stuff? In the dark? To god knows where??
Well, they had a solution for that...you see, they had a snow-cat. You pay $15/person and the snow-cat will take you and your belongings to your accommodations. Oh, I get it. I need to mention, the address of the condo was useless, or that is what the snow-cat money taker implied. "We don't know streets around here, we know names of accommodations." Jim had had the location under control, but had to search to find Mini Flats so we could get the proper destination.
Jim dropped me and the bags off. He had to pull up to an orange sign, wait for a minivan with a flashing light to come along, follow the mini van to a parking spot and get a ride back to the snow-cat hub. This all makes sense, right? Are you still with me?
The room in which I waited for Jim's return, reminded me of travel hockey team arenas; small and cold with seating. We had to wait about 30 minutes for a snow-cat to take us. We were waiting on this very chilly dock on the back of the building. We had to wait a long time because the group of 6 before us decided they needed to bring the entire grocery store with them for their stay. They took up an entire snow-cat just them and their belongings.
Once we got our ride, I wondered how the young operator had not yet died of asphyxiation, as the exhaust smell overtook the cabin. When he opened the door to let us out, I conveniently stepped in a huge watery puddle of slush. He pointed up a snow covered embankment and bid us good night. There was hardly any light, no path was shoveled. We climb our way up to our cabin, which had a light on. An envelope was taped to the door. It included a welcome sentence and the code we needed to punch into the keypad to get through the door to which it was taped.
Even though the electric heater was on, it was still really cold in the condo. For some reason, I have this quaint assumption of a cabin being warm and inviting. I should totally know better. The cabin/condo was in nice condition. TV, kitchen stocked with dished and cookware. Good. The one weird thing about this place was, we had to bring our own sheets, towels and toilet paper. Strange, I know.
We were very excited to wake up in the morning and see what we could not in the dark.
Around 7:30, we pulled back the curtain in the bedroom to see...white. Not white as in snow, white as in fog. Our mountain was smack dab in the middle of a cloud. It was also raining. That would explain why it sounded like we were on a ship. What was happening?
We geared up to go out and get breakfast. The snow road was melting. The ski resort looked sad. Had it been a nice day, the place would have been buzzing. You could ski directly from your door to a chairlift. We walked down the street a bit and found the Feathertop Inn, a quaint and cozy dining room and lodge. We had eggs and continental breakfast. We were so please to find peanut butter among the options for spreads. The patrons complained of the rain and crappy ski conditions, having to wait it out until tomorrow or Monday.
Following, we need to take care of the car-parking pass drama. We were amazed to find that the hike to the snow-cat building was not that far from our residence. A completely doable walk, even with luggage. The car wasn't even parked that far away. From the way everyone acted, I was picturing the mall lot at Christmas time.
Needless to say, it rained all day Saturday. The rain turned into about 3inches of snow by Sunday morning. It gave us a better view of the surrounding hills and made the skiers happy. But we had already been told what we needed to know.

Author's Note:
I know the tone of this could be interpreted as a bit bitchy. It is not my intent to complain. It is more to be taken in the context of utter astonishment. Maybe I don't do well with change. Or maybe I don't do well with my imagined perception of an event being completely wrong. We're not in a 3rd world country, but we are definitely not in Kansas anymore.

*Thanks Mark, for the M2000 recommendation!