Beaver Creek

Beaver Creek Ski Resort in Avon, Colorado is one of my favorite places to vacation. I adore the white powdery snow as it makes for some of the best snowboarding that I have experienced to date. There is a big beautiful village with shops, restaurants, and tons of people. The food on the mountain is great and one can usually find more than one option to suit their taste buds. The snow runs range in difficulty between simple and calm to complex and feverish. Snow lifts can be seen everywhere allowing for easy, though sometimes tense, access to the slopes.

Getting on and off of the lift is always a little intimidating for new comers and even those of us who are only able to get out in the snow once a year. I typically do fine, but I always expect the worst. It is as if I was going to forget how to properly navigate this machinery each year. Once on the lift, I get a chance to really take in all of the majestic sights of the mountain. It is pretty amazing to come to the top of a ridge and see the almost mirror like reflection of the sun’s rays in the snow. I breathe in the chilled mountain air and can smell the huge pine trees that litter the landscape. The constant hum and vibration of the lift chair resonate in my bones as I ascend the mountain. The frozen metal bench that I am perched upon acts as an anesthetic to my extremities. Luckily, I have the heavens and the beautiful mountain vistas before me to capture both, my attention and my gaze. I can see others making their way down the mountain. Some are on skis, some are on snowboards, and others are on their back (Ouch!). I look at my stepfather and ask, “Are we taking the blue diamond or the black diamond this time?” I knew he was going to pick the black diamond, but I figured I would ask.

He said, “Well, I am going on the black diamond are you sure you can handle it?” I laughed, since it was the third time we have made this particular run today. All I can hear other than the person next to me is the wind. As I arrive at the top of the mountain, I see the little building that houses the snow lift operator. The lift’s audible sound and the clambering of people dramatically increase as I get closer to the building. Once in position to dismount the lift, I wait until it is my chair’s turn and slide off of the lift chair and down a little hill.

Once we regroup to the side and out of the way of others coming off of the snow lift, I sit down on the snow to secure my board. The sun is so bright at this altitude that I have to squint my eyes to see what I am doing. First, I secure my right boot into its binding on the board and then my left. Then I ratchet them both down real tight to ensure proper control over my board. I push myself up on to my feet before my stepfather and I begin to descend the mountain. The wind picks up as I gain speed. I am surrounded by the white noise of the wind and my board meeting the snow. A constant “Shhhhh” is heard as I pick up even more speed. I see a patch of moguls up ahead. I choose to save my knees and go around them. It cost me some speed, but I am not in a race. Just beyond the moguls is a steep drop off. In order to maintain control and manage my speed I stick with the textbook side-to-side motion. The wind is really beginning to wear on my cheeks and my ears as I have no feeling left in them. I am so enthralled in the task at hand that the minor discomfort that this causes is easily forgotten. Once near the bottom third of the drop, I turn my board straight down the mountain and go as fast as I can. It is amazing the feeling of freedom that this gives you. It is the same exhilaration that I imagine flying would invoke. I see a small jump and I hit it at full speed and with a slight pump of my legs, I am airborne. The split second of euphoria as I feel my body leave the earth and glide through the air is surreal. I feel a sense of weightlessness, as if defying gravity. I stick the landing and an overwhelming feeling of accomplishment washes over me. I continue down the mountain and catch up with my stepfather. Ahead we see some of the flat spots of the run, so we make sure to carry a great deal of speed going into it. This ensures that we will not be stuck walking our equipment across the snow as opposed to riding it. At the first rest stop on this side of the mountain, we take a break to freshen up and visit with some of my relatives that braved the lift ride up.

The rest stop is a big log cabin with a full cafeteria and also acts as a central connection for some of the other runs. This allows us to meet up with my mother and cousins before continuing the rest of the way down the mountain. Not to mention, it is a great place to warm up with a cup of hot cider and contemplate which run to take from there. After resting a while, my stepfather and I decide to head back down the mountain to finish for the day. Once at the bottom, I feel a sense of accomplishment, knowing that it takes a lot of physical and mental strength to participate in the sport I love.

Beaver Creek is a fantastic resort, and although I may find one that surpasses it, I haven’t found one yet. On every given run down the slope of a mountain, one can embrace a feeling of freedom and accomplishment. It is unlike anything that I have experienced to date. I learned on the icy mountains of the east, so the powder that I experienced in the west was an extra special treat. I find it ironic that when I lived in the North and had to deal with snow on a daily basis, I could not wait to leave it. But now, I found a new love for snow and actually pay to vacation in it.