“When words become unclear, I shall focus with photographs. When images become inadequate, I shall be content with silence.”
― Ansel Adams
I love the mountains. I grew up traveling to see my grandmother who lived in Durango, Colorado. Not only did she have horses and live on a ranch, but we skied when we visited. I learned to ski as one of the kids on little skis, no poles, following her dad’s ski tracks down the mountain. The nearby ski resort to my grandmother’s house? Purgatory. I learned to love to ski.
In November, I traveled to Colorado for a work conference. It had been twenty years since I’d skied Colorado. My most recent skis had been in Austria, when we lived in Prague. But Colorado — I couldn’t resist. Usually, November is not the time to ski Colorado, but I decided to give it a whirl.
It was at the beginning of the season and the Rockies had had very little snow. I met the shuttle at the airport and rode up into the mountains marveling at the lack of snow. Keystone, where I’d planned to ski, was bare. But Arapahoe Basin? Perfect.
I skied for a whole day and bought a shirt at the end that says, “If it’s too steep, you’re too old.” :)
The next day, I wandered through Keystone with my camera. The silence — no snow, no skiers, no tourists — was pristine. The terrain is so beautiful, the photographs don’t do it justice. But I will try to share …
Keystone, Colorado: a Photojournal
Have you gotten to ski this year? If so, where, and how was it? Lots of snow? Or barely a dusting?
On another note, I am really happy it is almost spring!