An ode to the slow joys of summer.
Even before I got out of college I turned my back on summer as a time of leisure, or even too much fun. Sure there were frisbees to throw; Dead shows to attend; and a beautiful, smart, red-haired, green-eyed girl to take out for pizza and beer on Friday nights. But for someone who just wanted to ski all winter, June to August was the time to make money, and that meant it was time for work.
I might not have ever examined that pattern had a cowboy from Pennsylvania on a landscaping crew I worked with in Jackson Hole not said to all of us at lunch, “Did any of you ever think about taking summers off?”
We all thought that was just crazy talk. Something someone who didn’t actually know how to ski would say.
Except now I’m starting to kind of consider it. Not for some South American sojourn down to Ski Portillo, Chile, which is celebrating its 75th anniversary and where the snow has been piling up by the feet, but just to hike the Flatirons, eat a turkey sandwich beside the Arkansas River, take in the view or wander around the lake at Denver’s City Park.
Having a Garden
For mountain people especially, doing Denver in the summer has become a lost art. I mean, what other time than July or August could I quote the great French philosopher and writer Voltaire, who in his book Candide espoused “tending one’s own garden,” as a metaphor for minding and concentrating on your own damn business?
Where else other than my own yard could I sit and eat fresh cherries from a tree I planted 20 years ago and has only fruited three times since? (Which is what I’m doing right now. They are absolutely delicious).
The tomatoes in the garden are growing, too. The plums and the apricots. And the dwarf peach tree has so many green peaches that every morning the dogs go out to pick the fruit from it.
Where else in your life do you stop and look around at what you have, especially in terms of people, pets, and plants, and say, “This could be as good as it gets.”
Personally, I’m thinking summer. Summer is it.
Hot Business
When we were kids, my brother and I swam competitively for the YMCA team and rode our bikes to the pool at dawn—usually with our shorts over our Speedos—for practice.
One day when we got home my dad had a new beat-to-shit used Ford F-150 waiting for us. We thought, “Dad bought us a new truck.”
But Dad said, “No, you boys just started a lawn-mowing business.”
It turned out to be a lot of work—and frankly we could have worked a lot harder—but that was about as good as summer got. Waking up every day with a place to be and something to do when you got there. Something to start and finish.
That’s when summer changed for me. From time off to time trying to get ahead, and time well spent. I actually remember the days when we worked better than anything else. I don’t have a single story to share about the days when we had off.
Sucking back Slurpees after a hot day in the sun I don’t know if I ever felt more satisfied, still wasting time, but sure that I had earned it.
Live Where You Are
However, I do want to have one more Colorado summer soaking in the essence of the place. Eating a slice of pizza on the 16th Street Mall, jogging around Washington Park every morning, and drinking a Coors while watching the Rockies get their asses kicked.
Like any place, Denver has changed a lot. That doesn’t mean you or I can’t keep making our own memories of it. I actually started a little game flying in and out of DIA where I try to get there in time before my flight to walk the entirety of each concourse. The steps add up, and you can see—especially on the A Concourse—the differences and similarities between the passenger going to Huntsville and the one going to Frankfurt. I’m calling it the Denver circuit. And it’s interesting to see who’s flying in and who is flying out.
It’s also training for my real goal—and please steal this if you want— “through-hiking” Colfax. (If you do take up the challenge, let me know. I’d love to see how it turns out or do it together.)
Other than the mountains and the sunsets and the beautiful long afternoons with the golden light, Colfax really is one of the most unique aspects of Denver life. Fifty-plus miles long from prairie to mountain and back again. The Lion’s Lair. The Bluebird. Pete’s Kitchen and 24-hour pancakes. On the Road and Kerouac.
I don’t know. It just seems like a good time to come back to what matters most—the things you always expect to stay the same. The way you feel when you’re just happy being yourself. Here’s to summer in the city. From Denver to Vail to Aspen. Enjoy it!
—Elevation Outdoors editor-at-large Peter Kray is the author of the God of Skiing and American Snow.
