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The Bartender at the Ski Resorts
Now, where did I put my beer?
Down the hill I go, weaving through
less skillful mountaineers and blasting puffs of powder on fallen snow
victims.
Racing, racing to the end, leaning through the final gate like Alberto
Tomba at the Olympic finals. Up I rise out of my aerodynamic crouch
and out go the hips to slow my speed to a comfortable glide while I
scan the lift line for the perfect opportunity to shout out my skiing
situation. "Single!"
Ah, single at a ski lift. Is there any bigger advertisement in the
world regarding one's relationship status? Available ski bunnies perk
up, turning quickly around to see if the caller is a handsome prince
who has just arrived to sweep her off her skis.
Is this tailor-made for meeting members of the opposite sex, or what!?
So it is with great expectation that each winter that The Bartender
heads to the slopes, seeking the thrills, chills and spills that only
skiing can provide.
And yes, The Bartender is a skiier, not a 'boarder. I refuse to try
snowboarding until I can at least understand a third of what the shredders
are talking about in the lift line. They speak some kind of incompressible
language spiked with a lot of verbal exclamation points designed, no
doubt, to leave us skiiers on the outside.
It's at the bar where I leave them in awe, mixing and mingling with
old and new friends late into the evening.
Fun with friends
at the Yodler in Mammoth, California.
There's something about the energy of a skiing environment that's warming
to the soul. The comradeship of the people, each one proud of the way
they personally conqured a part of nature earlier that day, makes for
an intoxicating environment.
My favorite spot is Mammoth, less than a six-hour drive from PubClub
headquarters in Southern California (far less if CHP is nowhere to be
found on Highway 395). It's easy to get to, fun when you get there,
is full of single people and has enough trails to make every day a great
adventure.
Having grown up in the Smokey Mountains of Tennessee, snow adventures
come natural for The Bartender.
As an adult, things are taken to a whole new level. The party starts
the minute the bags are dropped in the condo and doesn't end until the
late breakfast on the way out of town. In between it's non-stop activity.
After the skiing, it straight to the hillside pub, the onto the jacuzzi
then out to the bars. It may take half of a week to recover all the
missed sleeptime when I'm back home, but the adventures gained more
than compensate for the lack of shuteye.
But don't blame me. In this case, The Bartender is simply a product
of his environment
 Ride
the Party Lift to Aspen
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