2021-Year of the

Cootenanny

I was originally planning to name this essay something entirely different, relating to a certain acronym (J.A.K.F.U.) first coined by a fellow Peace Corps-Kenya forestry colleague all those years ago as a crude description of the project we were involved in. Choosing to take the moral high-ground instead, I elected to pick “Cootenanny”. A term coined by my friend’s son when he talked to his dad over the phone. The kid happens to be obsessed with bad puns, and asked his father just how our two-day ski trip, or cootenanny as he referred to it, was progressing. “Coots” relating to the two of us being slightly advanced in our ages, (a few years short of telling the local kids to, “Stay off our lawns…”) and“enanny” being a take-off on the old “hootenanny” way of celebrating… Since the CoVid-19 pandemic still has an ironclad grip on every aspect of society right now, cootenanny seems more like a rather apropos description of this year’s adventure.

So, how’d the trip pan out? In a word, “outstanding”. Owing to the fact that Colorado is currently experiencing yet another in what’s turning out to be a regular occurrence these days-dry winters, my buddy asked if I’d be interested in the two of us skiing at Wolf Creek this year. 100” midway snow depth sure sounds a lot better than the existing pathetic white stuff totals of the front range. I haven’t skied Wolf Creek in quite a few years, and wanted to check the place out once again. As an added bonus, this is fine with me since I wouldn’t have to drive as far. More car time for the good doctor, but that’s beside the point.

This annual Birthday ski trip has turned into a regular thing, and despite the fact that I’m experiencing inordinate amounts of emotional abuse during a two-day span of time, I find myself looking forward to the experience year in, and year out. Glutton for punishment? Masochist-in-training? You tell me. Actually, that “masochist-in-training” moniker doesn’t really apply to yours truly, since according to some folks, I’ve turned being a masochist into a normal part of my personality for the better part of my existence on this earth.

One thing that has changed this year in particular was the strange effect the pandemic has had. A lot of things were different this go-round. Both of us were forced to buy our ski passes online, the wearing of face masks has become a regular clothing accessory, and all of our meals were either what we had with us, or restaurant take-out. An odd, almost surreal feeling pervaded the entire two days of our trip. Watching the evening news, it also seems as if the CoVid-19 restrictions have always been a part of our lives, rather than something we’ve been forced to deal with for the past eleven months.

Appropriately, things got off to a weird start, as the new ski boots I’d purchased before the pandemic last year, turned out to have a broken buckle that became detached right as I was taking them out of the box. Deciding to just, roll-with-the-punches as it were, I ended up skiing the next day with the boot as is, and took it back for repairs to the sporting goods store where I bought them on my way home. Were the clerks at the store embarrassed? Questionable from what I can tell.

Then the two of us noticed that the bindings hadn’t been set for the boots yet, so that forced a trip to a local sporting goods store the next morning to get them adjusted. Other than that, I loved the new equipment and decided to overlook the minor inconveniences at the start. When you get right down to it, life is pretty darn good when this is the only set of inconveniences you’re being forced to deal with.

After a day of skiing at Wolf Creek, I’ve come to two undeniable conclusions; 1. Why didn’t I come skiing here a while ago? This place is great. Not too full-of-itself like some of those fancy resorts out there, but big enough for both of us to still do all sorts of exploring new terrain during our all too brief visit. 2. Although my ability level is slightly better than that of my buddy when it comes to this alpine skiing thing, I’m way passed the point in my life of wanting to impress anybody. Who cares if I make a beautiful set of turns while weaving my way down the mountain? Does it really matter whether or not I beat my buddy down the slope? Maybe if I wanted to stroke my ego, but for the most part, I could basically care-less.

I actually first noticed this skill indifference thing when we were at Crested Butte three years ago. While exploring, we made our way to the top of the mountain and I could’ve skied down this steep headwall. Instead, I choose to ski down an adjoining cat-track rather than putting the knees through an extended mogul busting workout. The age factor kicking in? I keep ignoring it, but probably more than a little bit of that too.

So now that the two of us have decided this Birthday Ski-Trip Adventure will become a regular February occurrence, what does the future hold? A trip to Utah beckons since neither of us has ever been skiing there. Same holds true for Jackson Hole, and me being the world-wide traveler that I am, a trip to Hokkaido-the northern island of Japan also sounds like a satisfying option. Is it a coincidence that the place where I want to go skiing in Japan happens to be the snowiest spot on earth. Setting a record of 1” an hour for 72 straight hours-totaling 11’ of snow within a five day period. No, not really. Funny how all that extra white stuff has a way of making things that much more of a memorable experience.