Let’s start with a little imagery that we can all relate to. It’s late at night, and you are in your car. It’s packed to the gills, so to speak - there’s a wall of stuff behind you, granola bar wrappers in the cupholders, and perhaps a GPS stuck to the windshield that has no record of the road you’re driving on. The road is rough and covered in snow, and your headlights are only reaching a dozen or so feet ahead. Every corner looks the same, even if it’s a trip you’ve made a hundred times. About 10 miles after you start thinking you must have passed it, you come upon the access road - a winding mountain pass that’s a straight shot from the last real road right up to the hill.
A lot of people talk about taking their first turns of each season - the exhilaration, the anticipation, the excitement that an entire season lies ahead. It’s always started a little earlier for me - when I take that first turn onto the access road. This is, in large part, where the spirit of skiing and riding lives - not just under 24 inches of dry powder, but out here; in the bars with affectionate and nonsensical names, and the local shops that have been around for decades. Read More…
