But decisions made during the warmth of fall often lose their luster
when the days become engulfed in winter's darkness. Turns out the pound
hound we adopted was afflicted with a circadian anomaly that caused him
to lick my face every morning at exactly 4:42. It was a condition that
waited to display itself until after the first heaping of snow.
At exactly 4:45 a.m., I would lose the battle with my wife on whose idea
it was to get a dog, wrap myself in swaths of fleece, and trudge around
the block cursing the diminutive dimensions of the canine bladder and
wondering if anyone actually chose to get up at such an ungodly hour.
But, as any mountain dweller knows, there are a bunch of them. Some
lugging snow guns up a 30-degree pitch. Others behind the controls of a
groomer, laying down perfectly spaced tubes of corduroy. And then there
is the crew in the black jackets with the white crosses on their backs
throwing up the catch fencing, staking the hazards, and hoping for a
boring day.
I have since put my dog in therapy so he can discover just why he
chooses to wake up when birds are still dreaming. As to why Sugarbush's
operations people do it? Well, they just love what they do. A big
thanks to everyone who made this winter season possible. It was a blast.
JJ Toland
Morrisville
Toland is the communications director at Sugarbush Resort in Warren.
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