Yesterday was Gretchen’s birthday and quite possibly the best birthday yet. For the last 10 or so years, we’ve been using GB’s birthday as an excuse to celebrate her life and awesomeness along with the end of a long, cold winter season. Generally, we peel out of our mountain towns and head off to warmer climates to send it like college co-eds on spring break, but this year we kept it local and chill; full of friends, family and dogs with only sporadic bouts of sending it….it was Gretchen’s birthday after all.
In an out of the ordinary and somewhat extraordinary way, we managed to get a bunch of jaded, end of the season burnt out pro shreds to hike up buttermilk in flat light flurries just to pop some champagne, toast our bestie, watch the sunset and skitch down some low angle pow in the dark. kota & sammy lead the charge…
Now…Buttermilk, known for it’s cruisey beginner terrain and X-gamesy-ness, is no backcountry peak but it’s amazing how steep baby blue squares feel when you’re hiking up them with backpacks full of champagne, St. Germain and Chimay. Not to mention that most of these girls have grown up lapping park chairs and having snowmobile chauffeurs shuttle them to the top of pipes and hiking anything but one hits doesn’t happen all that often. One legendary shredder in particular, I won’t name names, (although she is an Olympic gold medalist from Vermont whose name is not Hannah Teter) hates to walk….I mean really, how can anyone hate the act of walking, it’s kind of like breathing for the legs? Anyway, we all hauled our jaded asses up Aspen’s smallest mountain, in honor of another year of GB-ness and revealed in the simple pleasure of putting one foot in front of the other just to get to the top of something and come right back down.
Happy hiking over life’s little hills….or something metaphorical like that. Cheers GB!