We’re at Snowshoe Mountain today! It’s the first chance we’ve had to get away this year… and it is great. Breathtaking scenery here in the Allegheny Mountains of West Virginia… beautiful sky… cerulean blue with big fluffy clouds… low humidity… ahhhhhh.
It’s the Fire on the Mountain Chili Cook-Off this weekend… so it’s a fun and festive atmosphere… lots of people mingling, live music, and chili and salsa to taste. (I would’ve been a cheap lunch date, except that Ric had to buy me a fleece pullover. I brought only short sleeve shirts and no jacket. Weather’s great, but just a chill in the breeze.)
Ric woke before I did this morning, picked up a Starbucks coffee, and rode the ski lift over and over. He just loves it. And I want to love it… I really do… but it’s so scary. He laughed at me last year when I asked where the seat belt was! (Obviously I’m not a skier!) I love the scenery, but the height just makes me panic. I thought maybe I would experience it differently this year… that I wouldn’t be afraid. I even took my camera to take pictures on the way down. But when Ric pulled the bar over our heads, my hands latched onto it. I looked down at the lake at the bottom of the mountain… and it was gorgeous… and so far dowwwwnnnnnnnn. I quickly looked to the side at the woods, which was less anxiety-producing. Tried to look beneath us again, at the wild flowers. Then I realized I was still too darn high. I wanted to enjoy it more… for Ric… but I just gripped the bar, looked to the side, and couldn’t help but think, “I can’t wait to get to the bottom. I can’t wait to get to the bottom. I want to be at the bottom.” Ric said, “If you don’t look at this lake and enjoy it, I’m going to be very disappointed.” I did look, of course, and for a long time… well, thirty seconds is a long time when you’re scared!
The bottom of the mountain is just another world. I stood in awe at the lake, surrounded by tall pines. Even the dead wood that surrounded parts of the lake was somehow romantically beautiful… along with the rocks, white daisies, and yellow buttercups. Ric and I sat on a bench for a long time, just soaking up the view. Then we walked to a little patch of woods… filled with hammocks! We each claimed one and relaxed in this little sanctuary for a while.
The ski lift back to the top was not as scary as going down, but I still found myself saying, “I can’t wait to get to the top. I’ll never do this again.” But I will. The time we spent at the bottom of the mountain was worth the effort it took for me to get there.
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