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Many more adventures

More adventures

Sunday morning found the Mashugana loading up a Jeep and turning west for some ski therapy. Ski bums everywhere will be familiar with the process. Everyone has their own unique routine that they follow time and time again in an almost religious fashion. Personally, I am stringently OCD about my ski bag. My bag, containing everything I will want or need, is always loaded and ready to go. Including all my gear, plus spares, it also has several pairs of headphones, a flask, cigarettes, extra lighters, etc. As I never know when I’ll be headed to a higher altitude on a whim, the bag is essential for taking the thought and effort out of ski mornings. Next, it’s off to the corner store for some high-protein snacks and the largest Red Bull I can get my hands on.

Stomping grounds

On this particular occasion, I was heading to Copper, a resort that I have somehow in my 25 years in Colorado never skied. My companion for the day was a neighbor of mine. Always down for tomfoolery, I am confident he will be appearing in many more adventures. A former lifter at Copper, he insisted on taking me to his former stomping grounds to show them off. About 10 minutes past Frisco, Copper is owned by a separate resort company from Vail, where I normally buy my passes. As we trucked up, I had no idea that, like an unexpectedly beautiful woman, Copper was about to steal my heart and run away with it.

Upon arriving, we headed straight to a pro shop for a few gear adjustments. My neighbor seemed to know everyone, and we made quick and inexpensive work of the things we needed. With our gear ready to rock and roll, we walked across the street to Red Hots to meet a few other Copperites that we would be riding with. Red Hots sits directly at the bottom of the American Eagle Lift in Center Village. Serving almost exclusively mac n’ cheese, hot dogs, and beer, Red Hots is brilliant, but I’ll get to that later. It was clear that the staff of both Copper and Red Hots all knew each other and operated as a sort of ski bum family, existing in a sort of endless winter, college lifestyle, Neverland. My partner and I threw back a quick shot of Jager as the man at the cash register was relieved of his duties with a tap on the shoulder and a simple “go ride, man”.

Extremely entertained

The three of us clipped in and headed up the lift. Riding towards the top, I was witness to a quick and friendly argument about where we would be skiing/riding. Every suggestion and comment between the two Copperites was met by a “yea, man, I’m down with that, or we could go to…, but I’m cool with anything, but this run is sick, or we could go here, but it’s up to you, or this, but it’s all good”. Extremely entertained, it was clear I was along for a ride, and I was completely ok with that. Hopping off the lift, we jumped another to the top. After disembarking, we immediately dove into an epically steep mogul run. Beginning with my partner taking a head over heels tumble within the first 100 yards, our first run set the tone for the day. By the time we got to the lift again, we had skied bumps, trees, and open terrain, all in one run.

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