It's a Monday afternoon in Minturn. The big powder weekend transitioned to warm sunny skies and slushy roads. The trailhead parking is now filled with locals with proper snow tires and parking skills to not slide down Taylor street. The weekend powder event had the trailhead as lively as can be, if you count SUVs rail-sliding down the street, narrowly missing multiple vehicle totals - lively. But it is now Monday. Multiple groups of friends have parked and circumnavigated the mountain and cruised the national forest down the Mile. Co-workers from the hospital, friends from the restaurants we occasionally enjoy, the local bike tech, the valley pickleball champions, the global videographer, have all had a refreshing lap on a beautiful day. The yogi walks down to town to the asana class. A neighbor nordic skis the train tracks with their dog for an afternoon leg stretch. Another neighbor hitchhikes back from the bus stop. Snowmobiles are whizzing alongside the train tracks adjacent to the river. Squiggly tracks are being laid down on the Haymeadow. The late afternoon sky is putting on a show. The local sick kid naps peacefully. The sheriff is scoping the highway for speeders. Then, precisely as the sun sets, everything goes silent, If just for a moment.
