Alta devotees

Yesterday we skied Alta, our next-door neighboring resort, that is 4.5 miles over the mountains as the crow flies, in Little Cottonwood Canyon, but still is more than 40 miles away from my home.

As I might have expressed in the past, Alta is to American skiing what Notre-Dame is to Catholicism. It's not just a place and a picturesque setting offering fabulous ski options, it's simply a religion, or perhaps, a sacrament.

As we were riding the chairlift, we talked on two different occasions with two older men.

One appeared to be in his mid-seventies, the other told us he was 85. Both lived in California, but chose to spend their entire winter in Utah, in some pied-à-terre, at the mouth of Little Cottonwood Canyon, and skied literally everyday.

These two guys seemed to enjoy their lot in life and who could blame them?