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I wasn’t worried I’d get stranded in the snow, not be able to make it back, or run into some other problem.
Nope.
I wanted to be where the action was.
As it turned out, there was a huge snowstorm headed right for my hometown of Blue Spruce, Colorado, and it was set to hit tonight. I had no plan to be here at my parents’ house when it arrived, either.
My plan was to be at the Blue Spruce Ski Resort, where I intended to take full advantage of the storm. A storm that was predicted to dump a substantial amount of snow on the mountain.
Exactly what I was looking for.
Unfortunately, as was often the case, my mother didn’t seem to understand it. “I’ve been here since before Thanksgiving,” I reminded her. “I haven’t missed the important holidays, and I’ve had several multi-day stretches where I’ve stayed put. But this is that time of year.”
“I just worry about you, especially since you’re in that camper with the temperatures getting so cold at night. I looked at the forecast last night, and they are expecting negative temps two nights in a row.” She dropped the last of the French toast on the plate, held it out to my father, and asked, “Can you please take this to the table?”
He took it from her while I picked up the plate of bacon to do the same. She followed behind us with the eggs.
Once we were all seated at the table, I said, “I researched for a long time before I bought that camper, Mom. It’s meant for all-season camping. When I was in Utah, the overnight temps were in the single digits. I was warm inside, as warm as I am sitting here in this house. I promise you.”
“Well, what if you run out of propane?” she asked.
“He took the tanks out to get them filled yesterday,” my dad chimed in, doing what he could to ease her concerns.
“And they’ll last me at least two weeks, depending on how cold it gets,” I added. “Plus, it’s not like I can’t just leave the resort, drive down the mountain, and get them refilled if I need to. Nobody is holding me hostage there. Or, in an absolute worst-case scenario, I can always get a room at the resort. There are plenty of options to ensure my safety.”
I threw in that last bit about getting a room at the resort to try to ease the fears she had, but the truth was that it’d have to be a dire emergency for me to abandon the camper for any period of time.
It was just as I’d told my mom when it came to the camper. I’d researched for a long time what I wanted and needed in a camper based on what I knew I liked to do. I found one meant for all-season camping that was all-wheel drive and could support off-grid living. It was essentially a home on wheels, offering plenty of space and comfort for me on my own.
While we all filled our individual plates with food, she said, “Not that I liked it any better, but I can understand being in the camper in Utah. But if you’re going to the resort right in our backyard, I just don’t get why you’d rather not sleep here and drive there in the morning.”
Unable to stop myself, I shook my head and let out a laugh. “Because then I wouldn’t get first tracks. There’s nothing like being able to ride fresh powder. Not only that, depending on how much snow falls, those mountain passes can be treacherous. It’s better that I leave ahead of time and stay there, so I’m not traveling in the bad weather.”
That did it.
As soon as I got her to see how this was actually the safest option for me, my mom relaxed. “I guess that makes more sense. Though, I can’t say where these daredevil tendencies come from, because you certainly didn’t get them from me.”
“Snowboarding is a popular winter sport for a lot of people. Not everyone who does it is a daredevil.”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Do those same people also spend their summers avoiding shark attacks?”
At that, my dad and I burst out laughing.
There was no question how much my parents loved me. And though she felt nerves about it, my mom was proud of me for what I’d accomplished in my life. She’d never stopped me from doing what I liked to do, what made me happy, but the idea that her son was a professional surfer did not give her the same feeling it gave my dad. She was happy I’d found something I loved to do, but she could only see that I was out in the ocean, where the sharks lived.
When my father and I settled down, my mom said, “I have a few things I made up for you to take with you.”
Then there was that.
The proof that no matter how much she claimed it upset her when I was away being a so-called daredevil, my mom still supported me.
“I keep telling you it’s not necessary. I just turned thirty-two years old at the beginning of November, Mom. You really don’t have to keep cooking food for me all the time to take with me. I’ve got some things in the camper, and there’s always food in the lodge.”
“And I keep telling you that I only have a few months with you here every year, so I’m going to do what I do as a mom to a son who’s still single,” she retorted.
Oh, boy.
I should have just thanked her for taking the time to prepare some food for me to take in the camper with me for the trip and left it at that. Because now I wouldn’t be able to avoid the conversation she brought up at least once a month for every month I was home in the winter.
