Summit up |

Summit up


Good morning and welcome to Summit Up, the world’s only daily column in love with the avalanche falling off the roof of the car.You know it’s going to be a good day when, still wiping the sleep from your eyes, shuffling through radio stations looking for that perfect song to start the day as you drive to work, you stop suddenly (for the construction flaggers who are there every day, but you still seem to forget in the space of a night’s sleep) and the slabs of snow that have collected atop your truck spill over the front, down the windshield and crash onto the pavement in a freshie supernova.That’s when it hit us Wednesday morning: Sweet! Look at all this snow!Somehow, seeing it on the trees from the bedroom window, or seeing the neighbors scraping off their windshields doesn’t quite exclaim “WINTER IS HERE!” quite like that car-roof slab slide.Then there is the joy of watching the harder packed slabs fly off the roof of cars in front of you on the interstate as they get up to mach speed. You’re cruising along, accelerating just like that Subaru in front of you on the on-ramp and … INCOMING! … the chunks of white come flying back at you, just like those scenes in “Star Wars” where they jump to light speed (or come out of it into an asteroid field).We don’t know about you, but we try to run into that flying snow sediment.Of course, the corollary to this is, as we saw throughout the day when the sun just kept warming everything up, the roof-borne waterfall. This phenomenon of Mother Nature occurs when you’ve been driving around all morning and the sun has proceeded to melt all that snow that didn’t slide off your roof. Then you go around a sharp right curve and all that water rushes and drops precipitously into your open window – either on your leg or all over the electronics on the inside of the door (which typically leaves us veering with the steering wheel, as if we could somehow drive away from this deluge, and wincing, wondering when the door is going to explode in a shower of sparks).We’ll gladly deal with this, though, if as we said, it follows a wonderful cascade of snow from our roof. We think you’ll agree.***John T. in Silverthorne saw our note the other day about Joel H. still tacking on ski days. John wanted to let us know that he hit 178 on Sunday, and he’s still counting. (And in a strange twist, he says he’s distantly related to Joel, so maybe there’s a hardcore skier gene in the pool.)***It’s called Thursday, ladies and gentlemen, whether you’re ready for it or not. Join us with the rest of the 20-something snow bums who, realizing it’s time to get every last detail prepared for the ski season, are right about now saying, “Dude, where’s my board?”If they’re saying something different, let us know at, fax at (970) 668-0755 or just read us your favorite definitions from the ski bum dictionary on the voicemail at (970) 668-3998, ext. 237.We’re out looking for some cherry syrup to make a few snowcones …

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