(I’m listening to Tripping Daisy – High)

I enjoy talking to older people.  They’re interesting.  They have so much knowledge and so much life experience.  They have a simple way about them.  They never seem preoccupied with the future.  They live in the present and they love to talk about the past.  It’s like talking to a living history book.  I’m always fascinated.

I really enjoy talking to older people on the chairlift.  They have what I want; the secret of being able to keep doing what they love to do.  They haven’t let life take that from them.  If I have the opportunity to talk to an older person on the chair, I’m taking advantage.  I want to know, “the secret.”  Today, I got that chance.

I had the privilege of talking to an older gentleman today.  His name is John.  We were on Chair 8 at Loveland Basin.  John had a full white beard and he wore glasses under his goggles.  He wore a stocking cap and his gear looked like it was old, but trusty, and full of stories.  He reminded me of a skiing Willie Nelson.  Normally, I’d soak up my introvert time, ride the chair in silence, or listen to music; but when John and I got on the same chair, I knew I wanted to talk to him.  We started making small talk about the weather, about where we had been on the mountain and asking each other “if it was good.” The truth was, everywhere was good thanks to the 10 inches of snow that had fallen during the previous night, but he knew a spot that was great, so I asked if I could tag along with him on the next run and he said he’d like the company.

Now, I’m no Jeremy Jones or Travis Rice on the mountain, but I can hold my own on a snowboard.  I like to ride fast, steep lines, especially in the pow.  John took us to a spot that was a bit more mellow, a run I had never taken before.  We got about 10 yards off of the groomed cat track, and I just felt the bottom give out.  We were floating and crisscrossing each other’s tracks with smiles on our faces that only powder can provide.  I felt weightless.  Zero effort was needed to make turns.  I was gliding through the snow and he was keeping up just fine.  Age couldn’t keep this man down.  He still had it and he still loved it.

We got back down to the lift and got back on the chair together.  I told him I had never been on that run before and he said it was one of his favorites.  I thanked him for showing it to me and then I said, “I’m Jevin.”  He replied with an outstretched hand and said, “Nice to meet you Jevin, I’m John.”  That’s when the questions started to flow.  I asked him where he was from.  He said, “Denver.”  I told him I lived in Denver too.  I asked him how long he’s been skiing at Loveland.  He thought for a second, then with a hint of pride in his voice, he said, “Oh let’s see.  I think about 64 years.  I’ve been coming here since…since I was about 6 or so.  1953 or 1954 was my first season I think.”  He said things looked a little different up here then, but they were still pretty much the same.  He talked about how the freeway wasn’t built yet and it was just a two lane road up to the mountain.  “You got pretty good as passing,” he said.  “They had passing lines on the road, and you really had to know what you were doing.  We didn’t have all of these 4 wheel drive vehicles they have today, but we did have some Jeeps.”

We continued to talk and he told me all about how he used to ski at Loveland, Arapahoe Basin, and Winter Park.  Since I’m familiar with all three of those areas and worked at Winter Park for a season, I asked him which area was his favorite. He said, “Back then? Winter Park.  There were so many girls at Winter Park!”  Then, with a devious chuckle, he said,  “Loveland has always been the place I loved to ski though.”  We shared a hearty laugh and started talking about the next run.

We took a few more runs together.  In between, on the lift rides up, we talked about everything from long lift lines at A-Basin’s Pali Chair, to how there used to be no bumps on the Jane (Mary Jane) at Winter Park.  “It used to be smooth,” he said.  “You could use GS (giant slalom) skis.  It’s not that way anymore.  I love to ski there still, but the knees aren’t what they used to be.”  He told me how he would hike up and ski Loveland Pass, but now, “Nobody goes in the right spot anymore.  You gotta go past the last tracks and around the slide area (making a motion with his hand like it was going around something).  That’s the ticket.”

The weather was deteriorating quickly.  It was getting really blustery and cold.  Snow was pelting our faces.  At the top of the lift, John said, “Well, I think I’m going to head back over to the other side.  It was a pleasure skiing with you today.”  I replied, “Sounds good.  The pleasure is all mine.  But hey, before you go, what’s your secret?”  “Secret?”  He said.  I said, “Yeah, your secret to skiing so long.”  He said with a smile, “I don’t have a secret,  I just keep on goin’.”  I shook his hand again and I told him to take care.  He told me to do the same then took off into the wind whipped snow.  I took a few more runs and called it a day.

On the drive home, I kept thinking about what John had said.  I thought to myself, “Just keep on goin’.”  Sounds like a plan.  Thanks, John.

 John and I on Chair 8.