the story begins with a magical map that doesn’t stay still.
wait, that’s probably not a good place to start. let’s start with the boneheads.
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once upon a couple weeks ago, yours truly was enjoying the company of some friends who would probably rather not be implicated here, and we may have made a few questionable decisions.
these decisions, and their level of questionability, are not in fact a relevant matter for this particular The Story, but they served to create a set of circumstances that somehow, completely blamelessly i assure you, led to many people on a crowded mountain riding over a barrier rope buried under snow into illegal terrain and as a result, having their ski passes confiscated FOR THE REST OF THE SEASON. this being early May, you might say big deal, most mountains close in April; why don’t you go do something else for a while. and having the misfortune of being rendered one of the bereft, my unlimited skiing privileges revoked and in no uncertain terms in very bad standing, i tended to concur with this opinion and drew up plans for a massive camping journey of the great american west.
including a map.
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but my nameless friends and i, we are quite nice and generally also very innocent people; and we take our standing very seriously. we shall not remain in this position of revoked and in no uncertain terms very bad standing without allowing these facts to come to light and seeing if they can sway the decision handed down from on high. and so, our little intrepid group of boneheads selected the most charming of us, filled her hands with cookies, and sent her into the lion’s den (ski patrol) to make it clear to them that in fact we are all quite nice and generally also very innocent people.
sugar and charm and innocent smiles went a long way that day, and we had our own inside lion.
“while the decision has been handed down that skiing privileges are REVOKED,” he said, “i will do my best to plead your case at my first opportunity directly to the Venerable Lion Honcho, and make it clear to him as you have to me, that your friends and yourself are quite nice and generally also very innocent people. And i will let you know, in the span of a few days, what he says. thanks for the cookies.”
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map drawn and car packed, i picked the day of my departure. with mounting excitement i bid my wonderful hosts a cheery farewell and turned towards the door when the phone rang. i paused; on the other end was a news-bearing lion.
the decision has been altered! he had managed to convince the VLH that indeed we are quite nice and generally very innocent people; but even such people must be punished at least a little for their boneheadedness.
we must spend another week in contemplation of our errors; but on memorial day, we may come and pick up our passes, our ski privileges resumed and by all accounts in good standing forthwith.
rejoicing at the news, i turned to look at my map.
it had shrunk.
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A week of glorious camping adventures in Colorado, as told by a series of pictures:
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in summary: the trial run of a week in the woods went swimmingly, and now i’m back in the civilization of Breckenridge enjoying ski privileges for one more week. time enough to dial in a couple new shifties and grabs.
from Summit County with love,
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