Yesterday evening found me in Pattee Canyon, not just among towering trees but atop a pair of skis, gliding through the snow with my friend Paul. The air was crisp, the kind that chills your lungs but somehow feels invigorating. You know the type. Paul, ever the enthusiastic skier, was cutting through the snow like a hot knife through butter. Me? I was trying my best not to turn into a human snowball.
After we had our fill of snowy thrills, our stomachs began to loudly protest. Clearly, they had plans of their own, and those plans involved a mountain of nachos at the Iron Horse. If you haven’t been there, let me paint you a picture. Imagine a plate so laden with nachos that you can’t even see the bottom. It’s like an archaeological dig, but instead of finding ancient artifacts, you unearth jalapenos, olives, and heaps of melted cheddar.
We attacked that pile of nachos with the ferocity of two starved wolves. Every bite was a delightful crunch, a mix of cheese, salsa, and sheer joy. “We shredded the cheddar,” Paul joked, his mouth half full of nacho. I couldn’t help but laugh. It was one of those simple, perfect moments – good food, great company, and a day of adventure behind us.
Sitting here at City Brew, I’m nursing a coffee and reminiscing about last night’s escapades while waiting for Paul to wake up. He’s probably still dreaming about those nachos. I can’t blame him; they were legendary. And once he locates me here, who knows what today’s adventure will bring? But one thing’s for sure – it’s going to be hard to top skiing in Pattee Canyon and conquering a nacho mountain.
Boneshakerbike 
Your Thoughts