What Is John Lutz THINKING?!?

Life in a ski town / Death of Winter  I live in a land of paradoxes. It is a land of high alpine semi-arid wetlands. The population here is equally extreme. Hyper athletes who are ultra-lazy at times. Parents at my child’s preschool/after school program just got the third reminder: Don’t park in the crosswalk. They are going to start ticketing (because the extra 20’ walk is a pain). These are folks who will only do the hardest work, for the least pay. Others do almost no work, for 6-7 figures. A photo from January, after last year's season was also delayed. (Carl Marcus) I wake this morning to the coldest day of ‘winter’ so far. Low single digits, nearly zero degrees (F) down by the river. This is the result of our last weather system. A wind front, followed by flurries and cold. This too is our problem, and surely someone else’s fault. This year we blame a baby girl. La ni ñ a spells warmer, and (usually) dryer weather for our part of the world. Indeed, in the de...

Ride His lungs were on fire. Sweat was beading on his brow, and dripping from his nose. The drops flew sideways away from him, from the striking force of the wind. As the gusts came, they buffeted his frame, causing him to brace against it. He adjusted his grip on his board, without it he was 'without his paddle.' Thank God for the bootpack, he had no energy for post-holing. With a rhythmic gait he plods onward and upward. Not looking back. As he turns his gaze upward he sees another thousand vertical feet standing stoically before him. Neither the man, nor the terrain will waver. He plods on. Small steps make seemingly little progress, but the steps kicked by others before him are more easily used than to kick his own. He speeds up his pace, pushing his cardiovascular system a little further. It's not for lack of conditioning that his lungs hurt, but the thin dry air at this altitude. He recalls that it's been some time since he's hiked up here. The thick ...