Monday, November 17, 2014

You still have my heart, Colorado


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Really missing Colorado this past week.  My friends in the mountains are posting pictures and sending me videos of the glorious 40" snowfall that started settling on the peaks for the first signs of silky winter riding.  I hate feeling jealous, but the selfish pow junkie in me wants to be in that right now.  This is my first winter in six years that I will not have a season pass.  This year, I will not be able to get a few laps in before work, or catch the bus to get first tracks on a tourist-free Wedneday morning.  My commute will no longer involve strapping into my gypsy and loading a chair lift to work as I gaze over nature's playground covered in silky white, glistening powder.  This year I will not even get close to 50 days.  I will not get to cruise down the familiar terrain of my favorite runs, sneaking away into the trees to pave my own hidden routes to the base.  The wind chilling my exposed cheeks as I grin ear to ear.  My shaky legs carving out deep tracks as I greedily devour as many runs possible before the powder gets torn up by all the other appreciative skiers and riders I share the mountain with.

Maybe I sound like a spoiled ski bum.  I don't care.  I lived people's weekend getaways. Their vacations.  And I got paid for it!  I am eternally grateful for what the mountains provided me.  They were my meditation.  Easing my mind and filling me with joy.  They gave me an appreciation for mother nature.  Getting pleasure for what we have been blessed with on earth.  Smiling and laughing with friends and strangers on and off the mountain.  It is something that everyone up there, visiting or living, has in common.  We appreciate the good and not so prime days.  We share our stories, show one another our favorite hidden tracks, make friends with the stranger next to us on the chair lift, grab a hot toddy after a full day of riding. 

I miss those mountains dearly.  I am grateful for every second I spent up there, for the days I lived and loved, the friends I made and have kept, the adventures that I cherish.  

"The mountains are calling and I must go"  -John Muir