What a wonderful time we had with A & B this weekend, catching up on the events of the past few years, retelling old stories, and creating new ones for future exploitation. On the afternoon of their arrival the weather was near perfect. We enjoyed good food, conversation and lake views early in the day and spent the latter part of the evening huddled around a campfire as the temperatures dipped into the 40s. We awoke on Saturday to the tune of tropical storm Danny dancing a jig on our roof. Never ones to let the weather deep six the plans for the day we piled into the beast and headed north to Sugar Loaf ski resort.
B & A are avid snow skiers. Many, many years ago when we all had much younger knees D & I tried our hand at the sport. Our first outing was with A & B in western New York, in the rain.Completely unprepared for weather of any kind, D & I donned trash bags to ward off the elements and persevered on the slopes. Thoughts of hot chocolate and cold beer in the warm, dry lodge were the dangling carrots that kept us moving.
Not a lot was different on this day. Well maybe the fact that it was August and there was no snow, but that’s a minor consideration. It was blustery, cold and wet on that mountain. And thoughts of hot chocolate and cold beer in a warm lodge were still the dangling carrots that kept us moving. All of us except for B, stood huddled in the shops secluded from the cold and wind. He on the other hand, was like a kid in a candy store, standing in the raining, eyes focused on the top of that fog encased mountain, dreaming of the day when he might return to tackle the big bad boy of the north woods. (Sugar Loaf is the only place in the northeast that one can ski above the timberline, as if it isn’t cold enough under the trees.)
The day ended with the thin blooded Floridians stoking up the heat and sending the more rugged Connecticutites (is that a word) into a sweat-fest. This prompted a discussion on hot flashes and low and behold it seems that three out of the four people in that room suffer from the affliction. I won’t travel down that road any farther; I’ll just leave the thought for you to ponder.
Yes, it was a great weekend catching up with old friends. The kind that even if you don’t see each other much for 15 years you don’t miss a beat. You just pick up the thread of your last conversation and knit it back into the afghan of your life.