My father Tom was a workaholic who never missed a single one of my sporting events for nearly two decades, and imparted in me a sense of risk and adventure. Being the one in the middle, I had more room to drift, and after college, I left the U.S. for Chile.

It is a gift to be a teenager, and I see a dad's job as lifeguard, not chaperone.

I would like to be remembered as the reporter who snuck back stage to all the off-limits shows, be it the Vatican dressing room, the Pentagon war room, or the Celtics locker room. Some curtains ought never to be pulled back; others deserve to be ripped down. When appropriate, I want to be the curtain remover.

Style-wise, Valle Nevado is what can only be described as 'hip international.' Brazilians, Chileans and Europeans make the place seem like an electronic music festival transported to an remote Andean valley. Huge speakers blare out thumping, bass-heavy music, while promotoras stalk the staircases selling everything from Red Bull to mobile phones.