On the road by 0530, to reach the main lot just before seven’s light forming.
26 east is the direction, personal power the quiet connection.
This will be my first time skiing alone, while also skiing a mountain unknown. Two big firsts— letting excitement be louder than fear, trusting the path that brought me here.
Reminded by the Lunar New Year earlier this week, the Fire Horse energy I seek:
Movement Alignment New Beginnings Leadership Innovation Independence Beauty Passion Personal Power Freedom Return to Truth Opportunity Flow
Arriving right on time— fifth row parking, a skier’s delight.
Baby girl by my side, while my big buddy boy roams the nighborhood far and wide.
We create our space, explore the grounds, run the woods with leaping bounds; tailgating with our goods, beaming with grace, this bustling mountain, glistening with lace.
Gear on, Chiquita snuggled tight, coffee down, bluebird skis in sight.
I make my way toward the mountain air, fourth in line for the lift up there. It quietly feels like a bigger deal than words alone can fully reveal.
Modern-day living— the gate swings wide, a simple QR scan through my pants, I slide.
Vista Express carries me high, over 6,500 feet toward the sky, standing now on a volcano alive, watching with courage as wonder arrives.
My nerves flutter gently:
Proud, Joyful, Excited, Cautious, Curious.
Mindfully choosing Vista Ridge trail— long slow slopes guide the rail. Scenic views stretching westward and wide, gliding softly down the mountain’s side.
Soon it becomes my favorite run, chasing snow beneath the morning sun.
A couple more laps on this idyllic ride, then back to the car where little miss muffin resides.
Hot dogs, tailgating, pups running free— this must be the place, we quietly agree.
Vista Ridge becomes the slope where confidence sings and light lifts my hope. The mountain hums beneath my skis, a song of freedom carried on the breeze.
