Slice of Break.

The wooden rafters normally tower up above us, but today, maybe because of the crowd, they seem smaller. We're at Gwyn's High Alpine cabin at Snowmass, stopping for lunch after half a day-I check the time on my phone-almost half a day of skiing. The warm, cozy log cabin is stuffed full with other skiers, in our fluffy coats and scarfs pulled up and around our faces, and like Snowmass in general, it is kind of a hangout for weirdos. Looking around, I see two girls wearing tutus, one pink and one green, a guy wearing a Thing-1 bodysuit, and about 100 weird pairs of Sunglasses. I mean, sunglasses skiing? Really? Get a pair of goggles. Not that it's not cool, though. I carry my plate up the wood planked stairs, and then look around to find my dad. He waves and calls me over. "Yes, finally a window seat!", I say as we look out on the cliff down to the skiers below. My mom and brother, Jack, come over and join us. Jack, of course, points at the many hang-gliders, small sailboats, and a big glider-plane hanging from the ceiling above us. "Which one do you like, Sarah!" he says! "which one"! "I really don't care, Jack" I say, brushing his arm away. He puts his arm up again to point at the glider, with it's big metal wings-"I like this o-" And promptly knocks over his tomato soup. How did I just know that that was going to happen?
Yeah, that's it. So the picture is from the corner of Gwyn's High Alpine.