Whoever started the hashtag #burythebutte surely had no idea how prophetic it would become.
The Butte hath been buried.
Work. Ski. Shovel. Sleep. Repeat. This is my life lately, and I am tired and sore and happy beyond words.
I have lived in snow country of some sort my whole life, and nearly every vacation I have been on of my own doing has been to some other snowy locale. At 13 I slept out in a tent in my parents’ backyard in the Blizzard of ’93 in the Northeast; I’ve been in Haines, Alaska in all-time pow; I’ve had my Heli grounded by snow in Golden, BC, and...