Page 6

Tanner

Plow

N ights like this are pretty much my winter norm. My route usually starts in town with a few condo complexes and houses on the outskirts. Then I finish up around the mansions off Moose Wilson Road between downtown Jackson and Teton Village, not too far from my cabin. On the nights before big snow storms, I go out to pretreat their parking lots, long driveways and private access roads. I normally hit them again the next morning before the crack of dawn to plow them if needed too. Always with Rex by my side.

The roads out here get pretty sketchy. It sucks, but the town stops plowing after 9:00 PM and lowers the speed limit for safety. So if I can manage it, I don’t like to be out later than I have to and I don’t see much at night besides the occasional wandering moose or black fox.

It gets pretty lonely and is definitely a killer for my social life. Not that I really have one anyways.

Most of the transplants that have moved in are either fancy, big city types that are only here part of the year, old wealthy retirees, or some intolerable Silicon Valley tech bros whining about their stock options not vesting sooner, whatever the fuck that even means. It’s harder and harder for a kid that grew up here, didn’t go away to school, and has rancher grandparents to relate to anyone that’s left in town.

Even my brother and sister left with my parents for the last years of high school, because they wanted to go to college in Salt Lake City. They were always way better students than I was. After graduating college, Grace stayed in the Salt Lake City area, getting a good job and able to afford her own place a couple years later. Clay wanted to stay too. He was in the middle of his competitive ski racing training and Park City was the perfect place for him to be. And my dad, well he wanted to stay with Clay and Grace after we lost mom.

I end up feeling like an outsider in the place I was born and raised. I’ve barely ever left this place my whole life. The farthest away I’ve ever been was down to Salt Lake City. I miss my friends and my family so much. I’ve even thought about leaving too, but my grandparents are still here, at least when they aren’t staying with the rest of the family in Salt Lake. Plus I’m fortunate enough to have a place that’s paid off. I feel like I owe it to the family to keep it.

Sometimes I just feel so alone, so depressed.

I get overwhelmed and I don’t know who to talk to. No one ever asks how I am, they just see the happy face I put on, but that’s just me trying to convince myself everything’s ok. Even if I did talk to someone, I doubt they’d care or listen. Who would even notice if I was gone? If I moved to Salt Lake with the rest of my family or got hurt out on the mountain, would anybody here even notice?

Whatever, most of the time I’m fine. I have it easy, or at least that’s what everyone thinks. Oh Chap. It must be so fun and awesome doing whatever you want, whenever you want out in the mountains. Being carefree and adventurous all the time, never having to be serious. I’d kill to live that life.

I know I shouldn’t be complaining about my life, but it still bothers me that no one takes me seriously. It always feels like I’m that silly goofy boy to everyone around me. Like no one actually sees me.

They don’t see that I work hard. I’m getting paid decent money to do my property management and plow work. Sure, I have plenty of time for skiing and toying around in my workshop on my knives on the side. And skiing has always been second nature to me and this job is pretty mind numbing. So the knives are a challenging, creative outlet to keep my mind working, and keep it from thinking about the people that I miss or shit that’s bothering me.

But when I’m driving the plow, I have time to really dig into my thoughts, which can be good or bad depending on the night.

I’ve driven most of these roads a thousand times over the years being a local, so it doesn’t really take much mental effort to do this part of the job. Most of the time I just get a hot honey badger from Cowgirl Coffee and listen to the radio. But now I’m looking forward to spending time tomorrow with my best friends, the Perry twins, since they’re in town.

Man it’s been forever since I’ve been with both of them together. Sure, I’ve seen Collin this week, and even plenty more over the last few years too. Sometimes he’ll even call me while I’m out on my work runs at night since he stays up late just to shoot the shit and catch up. But fuck it’s been years since I’ve seen her .

Driving from one giant house to the next, my windshield is pelted with snow as it falls faster and faster.

I keep reminding myself that if I get this shit done tonight, it’ll be less work tomorrow morning plowing what’s left on these driveways. Hopefully I can hit first chair. Should be a killer day on the mountain with this storm front coming in bringing freshies . Maybe hang out somewhere around the chutes off Sublette chair with Collin. Yeah that’s the move, they’ve been holding some good snow lately.

Thinking of lining up for first chair and hunting fresh lines reminds me even more why I miss them so much. There are so few people left here that really get it.

This place is fucking special. Skiing is a gift. We don’t own this place or these mountains, no matter where we were born or how much money we spend. These mountains are timeless, here long before us and long after we’re six feet under.

The Perry twins get that. They respect it. I think they have a different appreciation for this place than everyone else. Even though they’ve been here a decent amount of time over the years, they know it can be taken away from them just like that, if their trip gets cancelled or work fucks up their schedule. They just get it, when you’re here you have to take advantage of every precious second we have. Who knows when it’ll be our last. I can’t imagine staying weeks here and hopping on a plane, wondering when I’ll ever be back like they have to.

They didn’t come from some crazy wealthy family either like most of the people out here now. They were lucky as hell that their grandparents bought a place back here when this was still just a remote ranching town, a ski industry afterthought. And they recognize that. I think between spending time with my family and their grandparents part time, they appreciated just how unique this place was because they weren’t here everyday. Meanwhile I spent my time looking forward to seeing them because I was already here. They spent their time looking forward to coming here. In some ways, they might even appreciate it more than I do.

Rex whimpers, getting my attention back to the task at hand. “Shit Rex, good catch.” A stray elk wanders towards the edge of an access road to one of the neighborhoods I need to check on.

Trying to stay present is proving hard though, I keep thinking about tomorrow. Yeah… tomorrow. I get to catch up with the gang. Shit. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. To see her again. Even if I freeze and panic just thinking about her like I did this morning.

“Too bad you can’t join me on the slopes or at their condo tomorrow, bud. Would feel a lot better with you by my side. That’d be awfully nice.” Looking over at Rex, still nothing.

I laugh to myself. Why do I think that’s ever gonna change?

My mind drifts back to tomorrow. I wonder if she’s single now. I’m always afraid to ask Collin about her dating life, that if I pry too much I might tip my hand and show my feelings. Hopefully she’s not with someone like her last boyfriend. I remember when she was out here, she was constantly glued to her phone, him texting and calling her 24/7 to check in, stressing her out. Collin would tell me stories about when that guy would finally pretend to care, he’d treat her like some delicate flower that needed to be handled with kid gloves. She doesn’t need that, she needs someone to remind her that she can do anything.

That girl is fucking tough.

I’ve seen how she can hang with the boys. Skiing some of the toughest lines on the mountain, getting into trouble around town and at the bars, mostly because she was following Collin and me around for all our bullshit. I think that’s why I remember how protective of Collin she was. She never tried to hide how much she cared about her brother and it was so easy to see how compassionate she was. She was just always watching out for us and it made me feel special too.

Now I wish she had someone that could remind her that she’s a badass, especially when she just lets go of needing to control everything and has fun.

Thinking back to her skiing tough lines reminds me of my last memory of her. We were skiing together with Collin, her chasing us down Rendezvous Bowl after taking Big Red up. I remember that button nose, her radiant smile and a few strands of that brown hair were the only visible parts of her under the mirror tinted ski goggles, my reflection staring me back in her lenses.

She had swagger. She was confident. She was beautiful. No signs of being anxious, just living in the moment.

I just hope she’s doing alright. Collin said work’s been rough on her the last few years. I don’t know why she kills herself like that in that office. She’s too smart and creative for that. I know I couldn’t do that.

I am looking forward to catching up with them together though. They’re both so much happier when they’re around each other, even more when they’re here. It feels like I’m back with family when they’re around, like this place is really home again.

She seemed like she was always happy back when we were kids, the three of us spending their winter ski trips together on the mountain and at the condo. On their spring and summer breaks, their grandpa would bring them over to the cabin and barn on the old ranch, back when we still had a horse corral big enough to let a horse out to ride.

That thought brings a warm feeling over me in this cold ass truck. I remember how she’d smile when Grandpa would let her ride that old pony of ours, Starlight. She could ride her for hours and never stop smiling and laughing. I hope she feels like that again one day.