No time to post pictures as I do 900 loads of ski laundry, throw together three days' of food, and pack the car to run up to Tahoe for some more of the stuff, but when I return I'll post pictures explaining why my Alta trip started out here and ended here.
Spoiler: My dad took a huge cartoon-like (but not funny) biff and broke his leg (really badly) on the third day (thank goodness not the first). He'll have surgery to get things pinned back together and plates added in about a week after the swelling goes down, and we expect to see him back on the slopes (I recommend at a slower speed, but he never listens to me about this) next year.
The silver lining? (I'm always looking for it.) I had anticipated this being a stressful and complicated day, but it pales in comparison to the complications of the past day and a half where I had to coordinate people and luggage—some on the mountain, some down at the hospital—to get the right people and their luggage going to the right place once we decided where that was. Many thanks to a great group of friends who were there to help at every turn, a fleet of radios that kept us all in contact throughout it all, wonderful ski patrol and mountain clinic staff, a rockin hospital, Southwest Airlines for flexibility, my sister for receiving my parents on the other end, and my brother-in-law for replacing my parents' blown hot water heater by the time they got home. Teamwork, you know.
I'll be back in the mix on Monday. In the meantime, have a good weekend!