In the dark winter months, Holden only sees direct sunlight after the sun comes out from behind one mountain and before it ducks behind another. I can remember the weeks it spent only an hour traversing low across that sweep of Copper Basin. But today we celebrated seeing the sun climb so high it crested that first mountain -- Buckskin, at 7,756 ft. Mimosas for coffee break. (Unless you're a teacher. I'm still mad about that.)
Later in the afternoon we had a full-contact sledding match, a fierce sport not for the faint of heart. This can be played in a couple of different ways. First, everybody for themselves. Line up a dozen or so occupied sleds at the top of Chalet Hill, count down from three, and suddenly everybody is trying to make it down to where main street hits the bottom of the hill -- and everybody is trying to make sure YOU don't make it down. Sled fronts get shoved to one side and go careening with their occupants into a ditch; two sled pile-ups get hit by an as-yet-unhindered third and somebody goes flying; one person falls off their own sled and tackles another sledder to commandeer their vehicle. Yes, we consider this fun. One of the best kinds. The second way of playing is partners: two people to a sled. One steers, the other flips anybody who gets near them. Again, the object is to make it to the bottom of the hill, and that first, but often there's more honor in screwing up somebody else's day. Third way of playing: line up fewer sleds than there are people, back everyone up twenty feet and add one more level of fun and chaos.
All in all, a satisfying day.
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