The weekend of Feb 7th I arrived at my boyfriend’s house to head up with him to Hunter, NY. This trip wasn’t supposed to happen yet. We originally planned to go up during Valentine’s Day weekend (and in fact, did), but at the last minute he called me up and there I was. Jake is a big skier and snowboarder. A part of me is secretly hoping he isn’t reading this; I’m already a huge dork and my blog only adds fuel to the flames.
He recently purchased a ski house in Hunter–it’s just down a few houses from his dad’s. I’ve been up there a couple of times, but never attempted to try anything so far. Snowboarding always looked like so much fun, though. I know what you’re thinking–if you know me well that is; I say everything looks really fun. Alas, you are correct my friend. Nevertheless, it is on my bucket list. A chance to cross it off cannot be ignored.
Going up to Hunter is gorgeous when it has snowed. I’d like to think that anyone could appreciate the way it makes everything look. I’m not sure what word I could give it; awe comes to mind. As I attempted to futilely stay awake on the 2 hour ride up, and the low flat areas of green and pavement gradually gave way to rock and white, I couldn’t imagine anyone not appreciating the beauty of the outdoors.
But that’s what it means for me. Not everyone is the same, I know. Everyone grows up different, learns different things, and makes different choices of who they are. Growing up, I was lucky enough to have a father who took me out hiking, canoeing, fly fishing, shooting, camping, and more. So I guess, even at an early age I always loved being outside. It isn’t just that, however. My brother really doesn’t enjoy those things, despite that he use to do even more with my father as a kid. I think ultimately who you are is half where you come from, and half things that can be only you no matter what other influences exist.