Mount Sopris, fall 2006 showing promise for a ski season.
The past few days weather event in central Colorado counts in my book as winter storm numero uno. The kids are up in the mountains at a cabin, scouting elk and working on a snowcat. I’m organizing backcountry skiing gear and seeing what hand-me-downs can go to friends and what has to stay in the family. A lucky kid gets my first pair of Garmont Megarides! This is the wettest fall I can remember. Portent of winter?
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I’ve dreaded this day every moment since making the last turns of my season some five months ago – for I am now doomed to suffer from mountain-fever until making the last turns of the 2006-2007 winter. My grades will undoubtedly suffer as my mind quickly wanders between memories of winters past: equations and texts simply lose their appeal when winter returns to the high country. Relationships with family, friends, and significant others will be worn thinner than thin, as my heart yearns and becomes completely consumed with the truest of dreams…
You see, for true believers such as myself whom are stuck many hours from the nearest mound of dirt resembling a mountain, every second we spend on the snow or amongst the majestic peaks of Colorado is an invaluable gift, and every moment we must endure away from God’s country serves simply to increase our infinite zeal – leaving us with an unquenchable thirst for the mountains.
Until I’m blessed enough to set an edge into Colorado’s white gold, I remain envious of you all – be sure to take a few turns for we sinners living in the flatlands.
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