It seems like just yesterday we were loading up the truck, cranking up classic rock, and heading toward the mountains with the kids bouncing in the back seat. They were so small back then, bundled up in puffy jackets. Those early mornings’ the crisp winter light filtering through the trees. We called them snow fairies while riding the chairlifts when the kids were little—sparkling light glimmering off the snow. Those are the memories we hold onto as we watch our children grow up. Now grown they carve their paths in life just as they once carved their first turns on the slopes.
For a those in the Roaring Fork Valley, it usually begins on the gentle trails of Buttermilk. We chose those runs because they are kind—wide, forgiving, and dotted with the tree trails that quickly became the kids’ favorite winter playgrounds.
We stuffed our pockets with Skittles, the ultimate extrinsic bribe for one more run, a respite during a tricky turn, or a celebration on the chairlift as we headed up for another lap. The kids would pop the colorful candies into their mouths with gloved hands.
You Can’t Slow Down Time
The days often started with rock and roll blaring from the truck’s speakers, a soundtrack that seemed to match the rhythm of the mountains. The music set the tone— energetic, fun, and just a little rebellious.
After a morning of skiing, we’d head to the lodge for hot chocolate breaks, their cheeks rosy from the cold. It wasn’t just about skiing; it was about spending time together outside. We’d bond over hot cocoa, we’d laugh about wipeouts, we’d talk about ideas. These are the moments we remember as parents.
As the years passed, those simple days at Buttermilk evolved into something more. Ski school sessions turned into ski team practices. The kids began to develop skills and passions.
Carving Their Way
They started spending more time on Aspen Mountain and Snowmass, pushing themselves on more challenging terrain. We watched as they tackled steeper slopes and deeper powder, their confidence and competence growing with each season.
The mountains became more than just a playground—they became a classroom. The kids learned the importance of respecting nature, of understanding the snow and weather, of skiing not just for the thrill but with a sense of stewardship. They became aware of the impact they had on the environment and the importance of preserving the beauty of the mountains for future generations.
They’re Your Mountains Now
By the time they were teenagers, skiing had become as much a social experience as it was a sport. Aspen Highlands and Ajax were no longer just places to ski; they were where friendships were forged, where the kids and their high school friends would gather. It was incredible to see them grow—not just in their abilities on the slopes but in their relationships with each other and with the world around them.
Skiing is a part of who they are, as fundamental as the lessons learned in school or the values we instilled at home. They’ve become stewards of the sport and the environment, carrying with them the love of the mountains that was nurtured on those early morning drives, those tree trails at Buttermilk, and those hot chocolate breaks.
Looking back, skiing was never just about teaching them a skill—it was about shaping them into the people they’d eventually become. The mountains were our backdrop, but the real story was the one we wrote together, turn by turn, day to day, and year after year. And every time we see them click into their bindings and carve down te mountain, we know that the spirit of those early days, the rock and roll, the Skittles, the laughter, will always be with them, wherever their lives take them.
