Part Two: Burn Hut

Skiing in is beautiful.

The hut looks like a hut.

From the side the propane tanks are chained to the walls.

The outhouse does not have a fur-lined seat.  Sitting on the seat in the middle of the night is cause for pause.  I can never prevent that final gasp and whimper.

The hut is heated by wood and we feed the stove.

All night long.  The stove smokes even with the dampers completely open.  But it's warm enough to wear short-sleeve shirts.  Our water supply is melted snow.

We ski in the meadows,

through the aspens,

climbing and falling.

At the end of the trip we eat cake.  Lemon torte cake with raspberries and lemon cream cheese frosting.

And that's the end of a beautiful tradition.

Don't let the door hit you on the way out.