Energy, and the people around us

This past Friday I was lucky enough to get to stay in The Mountains (yes, they are important enough to be capitalized) with my dear friend Emily and her parents. We were driving home from the grocery store - we picked up baking ingredients in an attempt to defy elevation and master cookies at 12,000 ft. - and the snow was really coming down. Earlier that day we had skied with some friends of mine from Denver, some boys who were feeling less-than-wonderful on a Friday morning (typical of DU students, because we have no Friday classes - those of you who have experienced college understand the beauty of this arrangement). The day had been necessarily mellow, but chock full of beautiful white powder, and we were getting "refills" too. It was cold. It was wet. And it was terrific. As February comes to a close, we spoiled Colorado skiers are finally receiving our annual powder cache, and we are ecstatic about it.

Anyways, back to the car. So we were driving through this wonderful storm, going a little too fast because a hot tub was waiting for us at the end of our journey, and talking about the spring. This spring, we planned, we would camp every weekend. And hike every Saturday. And culminate our spring (my last spring at DU) with a long weekend in Moab, using the obligatory one day of hooky, basking in the sun, eating partially cooked rice, hiking, and sleeping in our beloved Love Tent, our temporary home last quarter and the sidekick to all of our Field Quarter adventures. Caught up as we were in our day dreams of sun, sandstone landscapes, and tanned skin, we took ourselves out of the present and planted ourselves squarely in the future.

I'm sure you think that the next part of the story is a car accident, because here we are driving in a snow storm and letting our minds wander, but in fact the next part of the story is an interesting conversation about the winter, the snow, and the cold weather. After such an amazing day of skiing, it is hard to believe I was willing to spend a few minutes yearning for the spring. But the spring, with its pleasant weather pattern, is the perfect background for a variety of outdoor activities. I feel stuck in the winter sometimes, because many activities are snowed out. But skiing, fantastic skiing, is a winter sport. And it is my favorite.

So why do I love skiing so wholeheartedly and with all of my being? Why is it that after all of these years, I have come back to the sport every winter, have chosen my college because of it, have shaped my academic schedule around it? If you knew me in middle school, during my formative skiing years, you know I hated skiing. I hated being away every weekend, I hated putting boots on in the morning, I hated the cold. I had no friends because I refused to take my gloves off at break, so sat at a table with my helmet on, in my full turquoise one piece, wondering why no one would talk to me. Despite those days when I would talk to myself as I sped down the mountain, I loved the sport. I loved the feeling of zooming by people as they watched these little kids going a little too fast. I fell back in love with the sport when I came to Colorado. The Rocky's are breathtaking.

Back then, I ignored the people and focused on the technicalities of the sport. Now, the people make it for me. The chairlift rides, the cramped lunch tables, the friendly (or not-so-friendly) lifties. Everyone loves skiing. It brings out the best in people. Sure, there are some frustrated snowboarders and some crying kids, but for the most part, people are jazzed to be out there, enjoying the snow, the sun, and the (overpriced) food. And that is why I love skiing. I get to be a part of the someone's vacation, of someone's great day, I get to be a part of someone's smile. The grins of the people I sit next to on the chairlift, the whoops of friends meeting friends and the wind whipping past my ears and through my hat and freezing my hair around my face, that is why I ski today. If you see me on the mountain, these days it's usually Keystone and it's usually a Thursday, I can guarantee you I will be grinning, chatting, and waving my way down the Rocky Mountain slopes in that crisp air, sharing a bond with thousands upon thousands of strangers who are also at their best when skiing out fresh lines of bowls and carving the corduroy of the rolling groomers.

"But it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world."