that smelled tantalizingly like marshmallows and apple cider. We chatted about our expectations, the weather for the day, and any other typical topic, until we were hit smack in the face by a burst of freezing wind (thank goodness for winter coats) and we walked past an extremely elderly man in a navy sweater with styled white hair. I could tell he had once been handsome, though long passed, and there was a large group of nicely dressed men and women surrounding him. A few feet away, a young man was taking photos with a tripod camera as the gentle man smiled and waved good-naturedly. Spotting my family and me dressed in our full out snow gear, he gestured to us to come toward him. Celebrities were not uncommon in these mountains, but I was still a little suspicious of this man.
Nonetheless, my mother, brother, and I walked toward him and he shook each of our hands a little shakily and asked us how we were liking the mountain. Assuming he was simply an old man with a love for Deer Valley, I responded truthfully, saying, along with my mother, how much we love skiing, although it can be a little nerve-wracking. This man’s pale blue eyes were startling as he laughed, and as stretched as his skin was, he had a very interesting air about him. I was even more surprised when he invited me to sit next to him, and pose for a picture. The young man from earlier snapped away as I smiled with wide eyes next to this stranger that I still didn’t know. He was very charming and I found myself at ease. In a minute, when I stood back up, he gave me a sort of hug and said with a humorous quality, “I hope you’ve enjoyed my resort.” Not sure how to respond, I simply smiled. He shook hands with my mother, my brother, and me once more and then we continued our walk outside. I wondered what he had meant when he said he hoped I enjoyed his resort.
Then it hit me.
We were in the Stein Eriksen Lodge.
Named after the Stein Eriksen.
I had just conversed and shaken hands with Stein Eriksen.
I had just posed for a picture and sat on the lap of Stein Eriksen.
I had just been hugged and kissed on the cheek by an 86-year old Olympic
gold medalist.
I hope I didn’t get any hot chocolate or cranberry juice on his pants.
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