if you've never been I am sorry for you...

april is almost upon us. and so, as happens every year, the United States Forest Service will see to it that the lifts at Taos Ski Valley come to a halt and the bighorn sheep have the snow covered mountain to themselves once again.

season number eight coming to a close, and I cannot help but get a bit emotional (as I do every year when spring arrives and the snow starts to melt). while there were not as many days on the mountain as there may have been in past years, Ernie and Ullr determined that this was to be a special year for our little corner of the world, and so every single day was blessed with either fresh, soft, dry Taos powder, cloudless blue Taos skies, or a combination of both.

perhaps it is age and the perspective that accompanies another year, perhaps it is the returning understanding of self, perhaps it was simply the fact that this was one of those years we will tell future Taos travelers about with a wink, a smile and a declaration that "you should've been here," but I truly connected with this place again. the nearly constant influx of storms and fresh snow brought out that midwestern kid again, new to the mountains and the magic that Ernie discovered and made sure to leave for the rest of us, sunburned gums and a hoarse voice from the constant smiles and hollars. at the same time, that blanket of white was accompanied with a peace that I have not known in some time.

I rediscovered the simple, timeless joys that have kept any who have strapped two boards to their feet in the winter to slide down a snow-covered mountain coming back again and again; the white blanket enveloping you; the sensation of floating above the mountain; the weightlessness of flight; the pillow soft splash; the deep blue of the northern New Mexico sky; the indescribable beauty of the Rocky Mountains; the comraderie; the uniquely overpowering beating of your heart as you stare down below you at the seemingly endless expanse of a white canvass waiting for the first brush stroke of the day.

And I have not found anywhere better to experience these moments than Taos. For me, this mountain is a church, a safe haven from the world, a release from the everyday, and a return to myself. Ernie's little creation has provided me with more memories, happiness, and humanity than any other location on earth. And for that, Mr. Blake, I am eternally grateful.

Yes, it has been another banner year in Taos, one epic day after another. And so, as it comes to a close and the shots in the boards are filled, the burrs smoothed, and the summer wax put in place, I'll take the time to say thanks - to Ernie for building this magical place - Ullr for providing that one-of-a-kind Taos powder - my parents for introducing a young boy to the mountains - my brothers for allowing that young boy to tag along - ski buddies come and gone for the times etched into memory - countless strangers that understood that anyone found on the mountain is a friend - and all of those that have shown us the childhood delight that sticks and snow can provide for leading the way.

Thanks to each and every one of you for all you have done. Your actions, some short and sweet, some life-long journeys, have given so much to this life. My appreciation can never be overstated. Because of you, I have seen, I have lost myself in the whiteness, and found myself in the process.

Thank you all...this line is for you.