On our third try in as many weeks we finally make it to the Snowy Range Ski Area for an afternoon of turns. This is the place where I learned to snowboard back before Burton figured out that snowboards didn’t need fins like surfboards. It kept me out of at least as much trouble as it didn’t. Coming back is kind of a shock. The old A-frame lodge with its big round fireplace finally burned to the ground, to be replaced by giant log warehouses. Ticket prices are still good at $50 for two half days. The strangest part, though, is just how small it feels. Did I really spend whole seasons here in high school? We hit every run of interest to us in a little over three hours. It’s fun, and the snow is nice, but I can’t imagine coming here week after week. I guess that’s why we started postholing into the surrounding hills – the early urge to explore. Despite the size, it feels good to come back and hit the old runs, retracing some threads that were woven into me long ago.