Are You Going to Silverton?

“Are you going to Silverton tomorrow?”

This was a text I received from my neighbor, Melanie, on Friday morning while I was sweating through an on-line workout. The message popped up on my computer as I was intently watching my virtual instructor. Although my focus was intact, my curiosity was peaked.

What was going on in Silverton? There was nothing on my calendar for the weekend. Did I miss something in the paper?

Jumping into a burpee with my eyes now off the screen, I heard Garrett passing through our neighboring bedroom. I couldn't resist asking him what he knew.

“Garrett, what is going on in Silverton tomorrow? Mel just sent a text asking if we were going...” I yelled out in between jumps.

Not having a clue on a festivity that we were potentially missing; Garrett asked the obvious.

“Why don’t you text Mel back and asked? I’m game to do something tomorrow.”

Oh, how I do love a magical, mystery adventure. In years past, this would have been a text from a friend wanting to check out a new exhibit at Omaha’s famed Henry Doorly Zoo. Instead we now plan with our neighbors a day of skijoring spectating in Silverton, Colorado. Yes, this is our new life in the mountains.

Let me start by explaining skijoring. This is a competitive sport involving a horse, a horseback rider, and a skier. People who live in the mountains are very familiar with this sport. For newbies like us, well it’s new.

Wikipedia gives a great description (as always, thank-you, Wikipedia):

Skijoring (pronounced /ˈskiːʃɜːrɪŋ/) is a winter sport in which a person on skis is pulled by a horse, a dog (or dogs) or a motor vehicle. It is derived from the Norwegian word skikjøring, meaning "ski driving". Although skijoring is said to have originated as a mode of winter travel, it is currently primarily a competitive sport.

An annual competition with horses in many popular skiing towns, people come from near and far to both compete and watch. Silverton is a wonderful mountain town that is an hour drive from our hometown of Durango, Colorado. The sport of skijoring is popular with both with cowboys and skiers, many times the competitors are both. Several of the rider/skier teams were father/son, sister/sister, etc.

What an unexpected treat to spend our Saturday watching athletes compete for a $16,000 pot. The announcers were straight from the summer rodeos and the beer tents were strategically placed close to the spectators. Local coffee shops and breweries bustled with business on the Silverton Main Street, filled with visiting crowds. The day was picture perfect with blue skies and no wind. The horses flew fast, and the skiers jumped high.

As we enjoyed our February play day in the Colorado snow, we found our fingers and toes getting cold toward the end of the afternoon. A reminder to all of us that it was time to go home. For me it brought another reminder; growing up in northwest Iowa, where our winters were cold, and the snow was deep.

The particular memory that came to mind on our drive home was my senior trip in the winter of 1985. Our class of forty-four students voted on a bus ride to a nearby area ski/snow hill (no mountains in Iowa) as our seniors-only adventure.

I vividly remember proclaiming to my friends that I hated the cold and cold-weather sports. Why would I go outside to get cold going down a hill? Instead I chose to stay inside the clubhouse with the snacks and the warmth, the entire time. Sitting by the fireplace, I watched my elated friends coming in, rolling in laughter from their mountain adventures together. I listened to their stories of teenage fun in the snow.

Although I was tinged with a bit of regret as we loaded the bus at the end of the day, I held my ground that I had made the right decision for me. I was not a cold-weather person. Not me.

Thirty-five years later I now live in a winter wonderland of outdoor sports. Yes, the summers are beautiful in Durango and equally full of warm weather recreation. But if one is going to avoid winter fun, one would winter in Arizona, not in Durango.

So here I am living in the heart of winter sports and spending my day watching skijoling. Outside. In February. In Colorado.

And this outdoor enjoyment of sport in not a one-off. Each day I walk my dog for an hour in all temps and weather conditions. A favorite walk day for Zeke and me is through a foot of fresh powder on the trails outside my back door. Last week I took ski-skate lessons at the Nordic Track with friends and next week we are planning a ski day with fresh snow in the forecast.

Our ride with Mel and her husband, Ralph, back to Durango was stunning. Although we have all taken this drive from Durango to Silverton many times, it never disappoints. Our conversation during the car ride centered on our adventures, past and present. With Mel and me deciding to take cross country ski lessons together.

Sometimes we own things late in life. For me I now know that the regret I felt after opting out of Senior Snow Day was real.

Thanks to Mel for the random text. Having friends and a husband always open to an adventure is frosting on the preverbal cake. I am glad I have become more open-minded with age. It is never too l late be taught new tricks, regardless of the weather conditions.

(Case in point: One of the first-timer skijoring skiers in the novice division was 61 years old. Just a fun fact.)