Sometimes when it’s still snowing in May, or I have to drive 5 hours to get to a major airport, or there are so many tourists I can’t get close to a restaurant, I complain, silently or aloud, about living in this small mountain town called Crested Butte.
Then there are the days when small-town living lifts my spirits in a big way. Today was one of those days. Most everyone looks this in the winter:
You get to know people by their hats.
I have countless examples of small town living that are endearing and quite hard to believe. Just today, the guy (with a beard – most of the guys have beards) at the auto shop who was putting my snow tires on said not to worry about paying if it wasn’t convenient. He’d have the car ready for me and I could come back and pay next time I was nearby.
From there, I walked to the bank (I haven’t gotten the studded snow tires on my bike yet), was greeted by name and asked (sincerely) how my weekend was.
On to teach my yoga class where I and a group of other sunglass/hat/puffy/boot wearing yogis who all knew each other stretched our hearts out.
I stopped at the post office where Lisa helped me renew my son’s passport.
There are no traffic lights and no traffic. The nearest Costco is near the airport, 5 hours away. I ride my bike to do most of my daily errands. I don’t have a mailbox – that’s how I know Lisa at the PO.
To all my CB friends, this is old news, but perhaps a reminder of how good we have it here. To my friends and family afar, come visit us – this place is a trip!
Next year Ryan leaves for college, and Ralph and I have big plans to go out there into the world. Back out there. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll get eaten alive out there.
So for now, I’ll stop complaining (silently and aloud) and enjoy every precious moment of small-town living. The good, the bad, and the puffy.