[su_heading size=”18″]Meeting The Cool People Who Work in Aspen[/su_heading]

The clouds were hanging low promising snow and I was alone…for once. Now that Hootie-Hoo is in Pre-Devo with the Aspen Valley Ski Club, I have the entire weekend to ski on whatever runs I choose. Now don’t get me wrong, I love skiing with my boys but only when they are not hustling me to hang in the parks and “WATCH ONLY,” no mamas allowed, especially the mamas who think that they are still kids and head in switch.

So yesterday I dropped Hootie-Hoo off to coaches exuding excitement for the first day of skiing with their kids. With each group meticulously plotted out, the kids swarmed around their coach while parents fussed and fidgeted with any loose hanging threads on their six to eight year old children.

The freestyle team has their own color, a bright yellow. As a parent, seeing and hearing these flocks of chirping yellow birds having the times of their lives on the slopes, exemplifies the beauty of mountain town living. Lucky little birds!

It was time for me to head on up and ski the Aspen Highlands Bowl?but I took my time, taking photographs and mingling with those out skiing. I met a snow bunny, Lavinia from Italy, of whom I’m certain made all men tongue-tied, and her boyfriend, Alex, dressed to impress. I spoke with Albert at the cider shack, an old timer with great stories, and caught up with my ski patrol friends who modestly and humbly wear their local celebrity, heroic, status.

When leaving the building, I poked my head into the ski tuning center and asked Norm why it was so quiet. Norm is known to rock out to heavy metal and punk tunes….while tuning. He told me of his switch from being a knuckledragger to an Alpine skier and showed me his new badass IronMaiden K2 skis that he was pumped up to ski on. I’ll tell you what, if you need energizing, Norm is your man to get you up to speed.

When I got up to the bowl entrance the rope allowing you in was still closed and I was the only one standing there…just me and the clouds. Guessing that the day before was the day to catch the freshies I drummed up a million excuses as to why I shouldn’t wait; many people had chosen to skin up the mountain instead, I had heard it was a bit chopped up on G4 & G5 from the onslaught of skiers the day before, I was alone, my back hurt…bladdy blah blah. Then a ruggedly handsome man from ski patrol came out and, without trying to convince me of anything, suggested that there was two new inches of new snow and that the skiers from yesterday may have made the skiing even nicer. I decided to stay the course, until two friends showed up inviting me to ski with them on the lower half.

As we raced off down the mountain, hucking off berms and looking for powder on the sides, I once again thanked Harold for getting me on skis at an early age so that I could keep up with the cute boys who knew how to ski, including my husband, who I get to ski with today. Stay tuned…and look for me on the slopes.