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Show I T 1 W W f 4? il by Terl Gomes " Y ' The town gets a lift Dan Wilcox's melodic Monday-morning voice told me '. what I suspected by glancing out the window.. ."winter I storm warning for today." I heard Dan's voice very : early as is the pattern in our house on snowy winter I mornings. My school-loving children turn on the radio j when they first get up to see if they will be denied a f single day of learning. Luckily (for us all) school is on and the precious scholars rush around so as not to miss the bus. I Somewhere, in the back of each closet, is the knit hat of I last winter and maybe under the bed are the mittens, or at least one of them. Jenny prefers my parka to hers, and interestingly enough, so do I which is why I bought ! said parka for myself. Never mind, at least she can find mine. j And then, with a blast of cold air from the semi-open ; front door, the little cocoa-breathed darlings are off for ; the day. I crank up the heat, pull the terry robe a little ; tighter and pour a cup of tea to plan my day. Now I remember, my husband said last week to check ,out my snow tires and put new wipers on my car. I did take my boots to Salt Lake to get re-waterproofed and they are probably ready today. Unfortunately, my feet are ready to wear the missing boots this morning. , I don't remember where I put the little ice scraper doo-hickey so I will, no doubt, do what my husband and the bank will be delighted to see. I will use my VISA card to try and scrape the car window. Then perhaps, this year like last, I will break said card in half and I will be temporarily out of charging commission. I think I'll look around for that scraper. The good news with all this snow is, of course, the soon-to-open ski areas, which are right now testing lifts and plows and gondolas in anticipation of the hordes of skiers who will soon grace the slopes and Alpha Beta. As regular readers of this column know, I do not live to ski. If twice a year I'm on the boards, it's a record. But last season something strange happened. I skied maybe a half a dozen times or more; I didn't freeze or fall or break anything. And I sorta, kinda, had a good time. Do not expect me to become a regular little ski bunny. I could never afford to dress for the part. But I have to admit I am looking forward to getting on one special chairlift as soon as possible. So often when we complain about the change of direction in Park City, it is linked to the thought we are severing more ties to our past each day. This winer, after years and years and years of planning and hoping and waiting, the Park City Ski Area will open the Town Lift. Originating on the site of the former Coalition mine building, the lift will follow the path of the tramway that once took raw ore down the mountain to become precious metal. The wealth from that mountain has changed. It is far more valuable now to lift skiers up' the hill and let them enjoy what's on top of the mountains and inside the town. There are other locations close by, where the ski area could have chosen to run that lift. I for one, am delighted they chose to take the historic path and reinforce one of ' the ties to our past. And if all that wasn't an important enough contribution, the Town Lift is the first thing on which I ever can remember all the Main Streets merchants agreeing was a good idea. And it strikes a vein with me that this week we've turned the corner. It is undeniably winter. Maybe this winter will mark another turn around another corner. Maybe Old Town and New Town labels will begin to disappear and the Town Lift can serve to remind us it's all really Our Town. |