Two months into our current historical experiment, each week of Donald Trump’s young presidency appears to have begun the same way—with the assumption, or perhaps even the assertion, that this will be the week that the administration either puts on its big boy pants, quits the tomfoolery, and attempts to govern; or that it is indeed the week that it falls headlong off the precipice of impeachment. This has been the leitmotif as tensions mounted regarding who Trump would nominate for the Supreme Court; whether he would appeal the Muslim ban; as he prepared to address Congress; as it seemed that everyone in his administration—including even attorney general Jeff Sessions—had met with Russian ambassador to the United States Sergey Kislyak.

This week, though, was supposed to be the real test. On Monday morning, F.B.I. director James Comey categorically refuted Trump’s assertion that President Barack Obama had wiretapped his phone at Trump Tower. Trump’s health-care plan is also set to face a consequential vote in Congress later in the week. Fallout is still rolling in from his proposed budget plan. Impossibly, the president's approval rating has fallen even further, to 37 percent.

It just so happened that this make-or-break moment for Trump fell on the eve of spring break for private schools across the eastern seaboard. For many wealthy families and their privileged scions, that means two weeks of rollicking in Florida or Turks and Caicos, and then Colorado or Utah, or perhaps vice versa depending on a matriarch’s social ritual of choice. Trump’s adult children, Don Jr., Ivanka, and Eric,__ are no exception to this calendar rhythm. The Trumps have spent three decades as a moneyed, gold-dipped New York family, and moneyed, gold-dipped New York families skip town for spring break, regardless of whether it’s a big week for dad.

Over the weekend, the Trump Kids flew to Aspen, Colorado. In tow were Don Jr., his wife, and their five kids; Ivanka and her three kids (her husband, Jared Kushner, who serves as a senior adviser to her father, stayed behind in Washington. It was this week, after all.) Eric and his wife joined, too. Unfortunately, unlike trips past, the extended Trumps now require a great deal of Secret Service protection. Over the weekend The Aspen Times reported that about 100 Secret Service agents were expected to travel with them. As a matter of protocol, the Secret Service would not comment on the number of agents it sent to protect the First Family. A representative told me I would have to file a Freedom of Information Act request in order to find out how much the government spent on sending agents on a Trump spring break. Bill Linn, an assistant chief of police in the town of Aspen, said that the Secret Service had been in touch with the police department and had not asked for any kind of support.

For many, a chance to spot the First Family is a draw. Dinner reservations and spots at events held at Mar-a-Lago, for instance, are now hard to come by. But for many New York families vacationing in Aspen, the presence of the Trumps is nothing but trouble. “They’re everywhere. There are so many of them,” one New York mom who is vacationing in Aspen told me. “Everyone is complaining. Everyone is annoyed.”

Another New York mom who took her kids to Aspen for the week said that with so many agents about, it is hard to get around the mountain. Because the Trump group is so big, and security is so tight, it’s harder to score tables at the few local restaurants at which New Yorkers normally dine. Traffic, too, they said, is a nightmare. (Linn said that there were no reports filed about traffic related to a dignitary visit, but that traffic has been challenging). About 40 or so locals threw together a last-minute protest on Main Street—for “All That Is Right and Good”—when they heard about the First Family’s visit.