Vail Daily letter: Glory road
I’m Kate, an 11-year-old from Indiana. I have been skiing since I was 3, and I have a real passion for it. My grandparents live in Vail.
The slushy snow glistened in the afternoon Colorado sun. A dark, bluebird sky hid behind a thin swirl of grayish white clouds. It was cold, 30 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit, but this is crazy warm for Vail.
I was cruising down SunUp Catwalk, my muscles relaxing after a tough Cow’s Face run. I was comparing forms — loose and relaxed, or ready and tense. I decided on a mix, not too stiff, but ready, knees bent to absorb bumps. I heard a metallic click of poles behind me. Daddy, dressed in all black, passed me and zoomed ahead. And I thought I was going fast.
Daddy is hard to find unless you know what you’re looking for. But, because I ski lots with Daddy, I have come to notice little details to help me find him. He has green ski boots, white designs on his black helmet and his reflecting goggles that make it so I can’t see his eyes.
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Daddy disappeared around a bend and I was alone from what I could see, but I was always conscious of someone behind me, whether they were there or not.
The catwalk is fairly wide and open. The skiers’ left goes straight uphill with plenty of pine trees, evergreen, and clumps of aspen trees, just beginning to bud. To the right, there is a gradual incline into a gully. The whole picture has an amazing backdrop, yet it is the star of the show. The mountains. Ragged triangles of gray, brown, tan, beige, black and white rock standing out against a portion of deep blue sky. Mount of the Holy Cross is the most noticeable. Clear white snow fills a couple of large ditches on the mountain that forms a great cross.
Looking at this amazing landscape, I am overwhelmed by the beauty of God’s creation. Vail is truly like no place on Earth.
I took a sharp turn and coasted into the lift line, where Daddy was waiting.