Part 1: The Phone Rings
When we started this endeavor, one of my goals was that Dade and Roan not miss any school to make it happen. As I wrote back on November 16, 2015, it’d be easy to find the time to ski everywhere if we just said fuck it and took the boys out of school for two days here, three days there, whatever. But I didn’t want to do it like that. Except for Vail.
“Dad, check it out,” Dade said. We had barely been off the Silver Queen Gondola long enough to snap our requisite Ski All Colorado selfie, and we certainly had no idea where we were going. “That guy’s setting up a hang glider or something.”
“Let’s take a look,” I said, and led Dade, Roan, and Tyler down the upper portion of Walsh’s run at Aspen Mountain on Sunday, March 20, 2016. Maybe 25 yards or so beyond the entrance of Walsh’s, the mountain plummets at a fairly drastic downhill angle. It plummets so drastically, in fact, that, according to the trail map, this spot is one of the area’s two paragliding launch sites.
It’s funny how sometimes you don’t recognize a near-perfect day until you’re telling the story later, and while recounting in glorious detail all the satisfying triumphs and humorous exploits, you suddenly have to stop mid sentence because you realize, “Goddman, that was a great fuckin’ day.”