tribute to Al, Irene and their magical place: Windblown

I was supposed to ski at Windblown with my older son last weekend, but he got the flu so I went by myself. I got there early on Saturday morning, and was lucky to be able to ski "first tracks" for about an hour. The snow was silky smooth and perfectly groomed, and the woods were so beautiful and peaceful. But even with the beauty and perfect snow, I couldn't stop my sadness because it might be one of the last times that I will ever be able to ski at Windblown.

I spoke with Al and Irene, and they sounded very convinced that this will be the last season for them. Irene was hopeful that someone would buy the place and continue on, but Al seemed less optimistic. I hadn't realized it but Al has been working that land for over 40 years (he bought it with his grandfather's help when he was still very young).

I've been going to Windblown for about 10 years. I learned to ski and love winter at Windblown. My children learned to ski at Windblown. I got to watch Al and Irene's two sons grow from children to young men. Al taught me a lot about snow and skis and wax and klister. His son Andy used to make maple syrup right in front of the ski lodge and taught me about the whole process. I learned how to ski from watching their kids and trying to imitate them.

Every time I stopped to rest and listen to the trees talk and the ice crack and hear the streams gurgle under the snow pack, I was really overcome by how much I will miss this magical place if it does close - I hope it never does.