(written 1/17/22 about a trip 12/30/17)
Did I already use this as the title for a blog post? Well, even if so, it bears repeating. Once upon a time I lived in Crested Butte, teaching high school at a a private boarding school for competitive skiers and snowboarders. The teaching part wasn’t super fun, but everything else about living in Crested Butte is idyllic. If I could have found a career in Crested Butte, I would be there now. Granted, it has changed quite a lot since I lived there. Like lots of places, it’s much busier. More crowded. More “discovered”.
Regardless, Karen has a friend with a condo in CB who was gracious enough to let us use it while he was out of town (that’s VERY generous for a family with three little boys). We went up and… I can’t even remember what we did. Maybe we skiied? Maybe not. The only thing I can remember now (five years later) is taking the boys up to the end of the slate river road, where it closes in the winter, and then hanging out while they shoved their faces in the snow for an hour. We got outside, we ate great food on main street, winter was beautiful, it was totally awesome.
