This place is our sanctuary. We've been coming here forever because it is beautiful and fun but also because it delivers us. We always want to have the library to ourselves with a raging fire, but we know that to share this space is truly how it survives. And it must always survive.
So, when you come to the lodge you have many choices of where to stay - many experiences and each has their benefits. There are no TVs. Just a game room and the outdoors - it is perfection.
When you stay in the Mt. Robinson Building there are no kids allowed. It's close enough to walk to the lodge but just far enough you can have some romance. It has been a dozen years since we've stayed there because once we introduced the boys to this place there was no coming without them.
In the Gardner building, there is ski parking outside your door and uninterrupted views of the valley. Once when we stayed there, Cooper and Thatcher were playing with army men outside on the deck and lost one over the edge. Tim had to find a flashlight and attempt a reconnaissance. Unfortunately, they were never found. One day, I'll bring more army men and stage them for Cooper to find so his sad memory from his childhood is replaced with gladness.
Another time we stayed in the Suite in the Gardner Building - that must have been Mason's first trip. it was just a bit bigger. Room for all five of us.
It's hard to sit here now realizing all the growing up that has happened here. We went from dating to married. We brought Thatcher here as a baby and borrowed a rickety crib that they wheeled in for us. We've had local babysitters come and stay so we could enjoy our fancy Saturday dinner. They went from being so little that they could share a twin daybed - heads on either end, feet not touching to full grown men.
Can you really write a love letter to a place? Can you share love with others, will they feel the depths of your emotions. Can you actually love a place so deeply? Only yes and of course, no. We do want to share this experience with all the people we love and enough others so that people can come and enjoy but only the people who will love it like we do. This place is magical. From the amazing snow covered vistas to the old beat up shelters you can explore at the Homestead or by the water tower.
We've been here for Easter and our old friend Andy dressed up as the bunny and the kids found eggs on the lawns and in the trees and bushes. We made it our tradition to come here for the Super Bowl- the 1st year it was just a table set up with a TV and food and drinks delivered. I think there was a Super Bowl before that, in the grill but Tim doesn't remember that, alas. But a dozen years ago the one table turned into a party; We've come each year and cheered on Seahawks and Packers, cheered against Patriots and made friends with the regulars. Those weekends we'd drive in and ski on Saturdays, fancy Saturday dinner with any child over 13. Then a massage for me and line up for the party. We always sat in the back corner - at first because of the baby and littles and then after awhile because it was our spot. The weekend eventually became longer and we'd come on Thursday and leave on Monday, we'd get an extra snow day that way.
The boys went from being pulled or carried to skiing on their own. The worst for Tim was the years when he'd have a backpack and the pulk or 2 in the pulk - going up the hill from the cabin or even down with that much weight! There was the year after my ACL injury that I was skiing behind Coop in the tracks and he came to an abrupt halt. I fell to the ground to keep from leveling him and broke my tail bone in the process. Dinner was less than comfortable that night.
There was the Monday morning skiing where we took off from the cabins directly across the lake and skied as five only to realize on the turn that we'd been going with the wind. The trip was slow and hard. Mason had to follow in someone's shadow as to not be blown away. And yet as we all collapsed into the car for the ride home we were in hysterics over the fact that we had just done that to ourselves. Right now I sit in the main lodge, Tim and Mason are skiing - I've had a massage - Coop is here studying and writing. This is the second year without Thatcher and we've taken to staying in the lodge again. We moved from the solitude of the Robinson rooms to the convenience of the lodge over to the Gardner rooms-we started small and moved to the largest room. Finally we made the decision to stay in the cabins and that saved us for a decade. But with Thatch going to college we felt we needed a change so we wouldn't be missing him so much. It was the last normal thing we did pre-pandemic. The boys laugh at me because I don't remember the Super Bowl games. it is true - I don't. I have vague recollections of colors and plays but my memories are filled with images of Mason running to the scoreboard to see who might win something after the latest score. Images of ping pong and pool, changing for the hot tub under the stairs and communing in the hot tub after a thrilling or a horrible loss. I remember waiting endlessly for Tim to pick us up after the hot tub and worrying that he'd crashed on the road to the cabins. He hadn't. He was just talking Thatcher through the worst goal line play in Super Bowl history. I remember quick visits with Amber, Brian and the kids, or the year Grandma and Grandpa came. I see the sign that awaits us to reserve our spot. I see their smiling faces after a day of kids camp with Andy.
Back when the big were little - before Mason - Tim and I skied together and Coop and Thatch would have kids camp. It consisted of skiing, hot chocolate, a hayride and often "power pellets" to help them reach their destination! When we first signed them up there would be more kids but as the years went along the numbers dwindled. One year it was just our boys and Andy's daughter. I don't think they do kids camp anymore but Mason would have loved it. For a couple years we got him a lesson so he could see what it was like and I always pack M&Ms or Mike and Ikes to serve as "power pellets." While he was in his lesson, I'd stay up top skiing or snowshoeing so I could catch a glimpse of him. He always loved being with his instructor and waving.
I stopped skiing a few years back but I still think about it. I remember coming up over a ridge and seeing untouched snow sparkling like diamonds in the sea and looking at Tim and thinking we had quite an adventure ahead of us. I can also see me taking off my skis and walking down the hill to Beaver Pond because I was too afraid I'd crash. I remember that first year newly in Washington from Arizona and skiing down to the cabins and explaining to my new boyfriend that there was no way I'd be able to ski back up and truly he'd need to go get the car. I'm surprised he didn't leave me there. There were years when he had to work on Mondays and would ski up to the lodge from the cabin with his laptop in a backpack on his back just to get to wifi - I think one year it was because they were launching Via in stores. It was back then that we thought work mattered most. We would sacrifice time in this magical place because we couldn't say no to demands from work.
In fact, we almost didn't come one year. My friend, Heidi, drove me to work on a Friday morning so Tim and the boys could pick me up and we could leave by noon. That morning, I was called into the superintendent's office and they told me that they were going another direction with my building. They had made a mistake picking me to lead without letting the team have a say. Because they did it that way there were people I'd never win over and they needed to make a change. I could have the weekend to figure out how to spin it. It was the only job I ever wanted to be a school principal and it was disappearing. I was a mess.They told me not to go back to the building and just go home but I had no car. I had to call Tim to come get me and explain over the speakerphone with my kids in the car what was happening.To his credit he came and got me and took me home. I crawled into bed and sobbed. He came in to check on me and cancel the trip here. But somehow I rallied - we still came - I remember sending a message to my family and friends while we drove along Lake Entiat. I remember crawling into bed at the cabin when we arrived and just laying there. I remember excusing the boys from dinner so Tim and I could talk. And I remember a massage on Sunday morning. And I remember panicking. I couldn't breathe.The room was closing in - I couldn't do it - the trauma I'd been dealt was coming through my body. It's been six years and I still start to panic during a massage. I have a counselor and some anxiety meds and that helps but each time I have to explain.They know me here so it's easier than at a spa or some other resort. This place has healing properties. I can't imagine staying home that weekend. I can't imagine. So, no, I don't remember the football teams or scores, but I remember feeling happy and safe and knowing if I have a chance to heal it will be partially because of this place.
And here we are again. No Super Bowl - it was a few weeks back and COVID is in play so no party. We came on Thursday and will leave on Monday. Because we don't have the obligation of the Super Bowl party - there has been more relaxing, more time in the snow, more amazing adventures, more writing, more reading, more chocolate chip cookie dough truffles. I don't know if we'll be back for another Super Bowl. I'm not even sure they'll do it again. I kind of think it was over before COVID but they kept it for us. We don't need the Super Bowl to have our perfect visit - in fact at this point, I don't know if I'd want it - next year it will just be us and Mason. Can you justify the entire back corner for just us 3? And I don't know if we will make it back at all. It's been a year of this pandemic. We lost my Uncle Bill a year ago and my dad six months ago. I learned during this time that doing what you love matters - being by those you love matter. I'm pursuing my next career move and that's at ASU. Not only is it my alma mater it is where Thatch goes to college and where Coop will go in the fall. I still love being a building principal and I see all the amazing things ASU is doing and I want to be a part of it. We learned so very well that fit matters. We fit here and at ASU but in order for me to pursue this dream we will move so far from this mountain oasis that we may not be back regularly. It is hard to say goodbye to people, I've done a lot of that in my life but to say goodbye to a place that holds so many of your memories is much the same- you have to pack them up, make sense of them and let others go. Coop says we can find a place to ski - Flagstaff and Sedona are close. And he's right but none will be this place. None will have the memory of our best dinner ever. Tim was home on leave from Iraq - we came here just the two of us and made a reservation, like we do. This very special year our server was Bob and we were up for the banter. He learned we'd been coming here for years and that Tim was only home for two weeks and yet we found a way to make it to the lodge. He proceeded to serve us the most amazing meal with special bites made by the chef. Wine pairings for each course and palate cleansers in between-we talked and laughed and ate and drank. Every bite was delicious. We ended the evening with dessert and port. As we went to settle up we were surprised to discover that Bob had waived the entire night. We don't know if it was a joint decision or if Bob covered it himself but it was that night as we staggered back to our Mt Robinson Room holding onto cars so we wouldn't slip on the ice - it was then that we decided we would always come back. We have spent more money over the years to cover that dinner and we could tell stories about so many others, but Bob was the guy we credit with starting our tradition.
So as we drive away tomorrow, I'm left wondering when we will return next. Nothing is guaranteed - nothing is for sure but this place is magic and I hold it so very close to my heart. Thank you to Sun Mountain Lodge for years of memories, for providing our family with a place we adore; with babysitters who read all the Sandra Boynton books and played hide and seek; to the servers and desk staff always willing to take our picture or engage with our boys. To Barb for ensuring our football space, to Andy, to Bob, to everyone in the ski shop who recognizes us even with masks to the team members who have their own memories of three boys learning to ski, running the game room, drinking all the Shirley Temples and cheering loudly for Seahawks and Packers. Thank you for the trees and the snow, the blue skies and the space to explore. Thank you for being a place when I wanted to shut down, for applying your magic so I could be open to the universe. I'm grateful for the trip we made here with my parents one Labor Day while Tim was gone so they always know where we are talking about when we say Sun Mountain.
There will be other places with quilts on the beds and beautifully crafted furniture, there will be raging fires and delicious cocktails but they will never feel like this place. Our home in the snow where we've raised our boys, where we found our voices, shared our love and always gained peace. So this is my love letter to you. I wish you so many days ahead filled with couples and families as they find their memories like we have on your beautiful grounds. Until we see you again - and we will - May the sun always shine like diamonds on the snow, may the wind always sound so lovely through the trees. Save us a spot. Always.
#writeeveryday #writelikeyouarerunningoutoftime #connectionconversations #liveacreativelife #mynextbook #writerswrite
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