Samantha left my side for a moment and returned with an atlas. It would be the first time I would really dive in. I believe she could somehow feel the dedication in my statement. Like a young boy going off to war, she knew this was something I had to do. There was no turning back. So, loving me as I believe she did or was starting to do, she opened the Atlas in the far back to the State of Vermont.

We quickly learned that Montpelier was the capital city and why not start there. Surely there would be something to sink my teeth into that would begin to quench the fire in my belly for a full winter season. Oddly enough, it is also located almost smack dab in the center of the State. Without a doubt, it had to be "Step 1". So; to recap, "Step 1:  Land in Montpelier on September 15".

We got out a large legal pad as well and began sort of a planning document or a "short list" of what must be done. Finally, Sam got out her Mac Book and we used trusty "Google" to our advantage. While she may not have completely understood, it seemed she was willing to go with me on this...the planning part, that is. And if my plans came to fruition, I would be closer to her in Boston; and if not, then we had had some fun with learning about the State of Vermont.

I did not really have a timeline for how long I would stay at on place; but in the dead of winter, I knew I needed to be in the mountains. "A small ski-in, ski-out chalet would do", I thought!

There was also the possibility of doing some satellite or at least monitoring or "sitting in" on some classes at the University of Vermont in Burlington. There is not a plethora of colleges in Vermont, but there is a large community college with several locations throughout the state and a few public and private colleges.

At any rate, I knew that for some of my adventure, I would be skiing. This would be my respite until I could figure out exactly what my burning desire for Vermont was. I would return to Killington and Stowe; among other resorts, to help me find my way.

fter a solid round of scrabble, it was time to hit the sack. They put me in an alternate room, but soon after 1:00 AM, Samantha came to lay with me for a bit. We cuddled and tlked softly and exchanged kisses from time to time. It was that evening that I finally got up the courage and the nerve to tell Sam about the adventure I would be going on. I would be blazing a new path; and I knew not where I would start, but it would be in Vermont.

Saturday came early and quickly, and I awoke to the smell of bacon and french toast...never a bad thing. Samantha was in the shower when I awoke, so I drifted into "Dreamland" about Vermont. Where would I start? Burlington, Stowe, Killington? All of these destinations had a certain appeal and I would have to do more research to be fully educated prior to liftoff. It was now only five moths away, as I planned to land in Vermont in the middle of September and be there for the first winter snow.

Samantha exited the bathroom and came down the hall past my room humming a tune she had just listened to on the radio. I could see her radiant red hair from my bed where I still lie. She had taken good care to shave her legs and I could even smell the lotion she had used after getting dry. She smiled as she went by in a robe and gave me the appearance of a quick flash; not a full one, but I caught a nip staring at me for a brief second.

It was my turn and I was determined to act quickly as breakfast awaited. I came down the stairs to the country-styled kitchen, complete with what appeared to be an aged cabinetry and counter tops; which was displayed and portrayed as a butcher block.Breakfast was good on the taste buds and Samantha had taken the time to request tomato juice and grapefruits, which she made under the care of the broiler as I had finished brushing my teeth just moments before. I felt welcomed!

After breakfast, he father indicated quickly that we were going for a ride. I had barely finished my coffee and juice when he graced us with the news. Antique hunting at local yard sales would be the start to the morning. One piece that I uncovered at a huge discount was a Tiffany lamp. I bought it unbeknownst to Samantha and had intended to unveil it to her at her dorm room when we returned to Boston. She was in need of a nightlight, and this would do the job perfectly. I took the time to phone Lee in the afternoon. He had gone home to Deep Creek Lake and was spending the first weekend on water skis. Julie, Sam's roommate had returned to Brooklyn where she was from; in one of the last and "tougher" parts of town, but it seemed to be more friendly and chipper around the holidays.It would be a while until Julie and Lee would meet up, but we learned that she had planned to go to Maryland to Lee's homeplace over the Summer.

Evening came quickly, and we ate out that evening at the Cheesecake Factory. Shortly after, we returned home and Samantha and I visited more by the fireplace prior to bed and talked more about my plans. While nothing was solid or set in stone as of yet, I was beginning to formulate a plan in my mind for my "One Winter in Vermont".

The next day we left early in the morning so that we could be at Samantha's home by early morning or afternoon. We arrived at 12:30 PM, in plenty of time to prepare ourselves for the Good Friday service we would be attending. Additionally, we would be attending church Sunday morning. The Friday night service was long in my estimation, and somehow I knew that the Easter service might even be twice as long. Nonetheless, I felt at home with Samantha, even though I had just met her parents. They were cordial, seemed to be accepting and were excited about the bottles of wine that I had brought as gifts.

After church, we went out to dinner. I was careful to order something in a medium range, but not pig feed. I learned from my parents not to order the most expensive thing on the menu, especially on the first outing and at no time forward unless specifically instructed to "get anything I wanted". Samantha and I both had salads; she a grilled chicken and I a grilled salmon. We took a bite or two of each others plate; or bowl in this case, and each was very good.

After dinner, we went to Cold Stone Creamery for marble slab ice cream. I was not adventurous, and usually never am, as my favorite at any rate is vanilla bean. Samantha opted for coffee ice cream; another one of my personal favorites. And we each opted for a waffle cone; in my opinion, the only good choice at an ice cream joint.

We played Scrabble that evening and I have to explain this a bit. I was first to go as a guest and in typical frog fashion; as the English say, I only had one word that I could play. As I played my word, "PENIS", there was a loud cry from Samantha first and then the rest of the peanut gallery. The rest of my days at Samantha's home would forever be engraved by the first time that we played Scrabble.

Despite the fact that I was completely engrossed in Samantha behind Paddy O's, my my drifted simultaneously to the fiery nites that we had in Vermont. It was intoxicating. There was an inherent draw to that place; that state, that I was not going to conquer until I returned. Everything about Samantha spoke Vermont. Her beautiful body, the curls of her red hair, her stinging eyes that were able to penetrate you like a laser. The pull toward Vermont was unmistakable deep in the recesses of my inner being.

We did manage to make it back into the bar and finish the nite without harm. As usual, we hailed a taxi at 3:15 AM. It was time to get some much needed rest. Samantha had arranged for her roommate to stay with a friend; which I think she wanted to do anyway, and we had her dorm room to ourselves. I was a bit surprised at how tidy the place was, although I feel sure she out in some additional effort prior to my arrival.

I slept soundly; but as you might imagine, I dreamed of the slopes and the blustery winter solstice. Winter would not come for several months, but I knew inherently where I would be...

I tried my best to open up to Samantha about my love of Vermont over breakfast. Once again, we had reminisced in a way that spoke to memories of Spring Break. We had eggs, rye toast, tea, coffee and a grapefruit that had been blazed with cinnamon under the broiler for only a few seconds. She too noticed; after I ordered for both of us, what I was doing. I also had to have a tomato juice; as I typically did after a long nite "in the sauce", to coat my stomach. To my surprise it worked, as the memories of the nite before were like an Irish fog that morning on the golf course of St. Andrews.

After breakfast, we had the day to ourselves as we would leave tomorrow, on a Friday, for Easter break. She showed me around campus. She talked about her professors and what she was learning and furthermore how she was planning to apply what she learned by her decision to enter industry as opposed to medical school. I was proud of her for having made that decision as I felt in my heart it would be good for her. On some level, she had come to terms with her decision, and I; on the other hand, was wrenching with mine. Sadly, I knew I would be deferring college for an unknown time and heading to Vermont.

Around 8:00 PM, we hopped into a cab and headed for Paddy O's, an Irish "Super Pub". A true Irish Pub from the word "Go!", I could tell we were in for a night of drunkenness, Irish singing and dancing, and maybe a few kisses and hugs for good measure from folks far and wide.

Our dinner at the Club was a good start, so I felt good about my chances of not "losing my cookies" that evening. Staying away from the Jameson and Guinness would have perhaps been a wise choice, but upon arrival; excitement struck and I immediately felt the "Tug of the Irish" and ordered an Irish Car Bomb. Hopefully it would provide me with a foundation for all other libations that would follow that evening.

We additionally ordered the famous Fish & Chips, just to have another buffer for the stomach. Samantha wore green and I wore one of my favorite shirts from designer Thomas Dean 
After scarfing down the Fish and Chips; which was probably the best I had ever had, we headed to the jukebox with quarters. We would sing along with the band and the jukebox until nearly 3:00 AM.

Samantha's roommate and a few friends arrived around 9:30 PM. They had started at a local joint around the corner and made their way to Paddy O's after a few Sarsaparillas. Not nary a one of us did not join in on the singing, as it would have been an embarrassment to be recluse that evening. This was truly about the most "Irish" depiction that I have ever seen in a bar of this type. Even the bar stools were hand made by Irishmen. To top things off, Notre Dame was playing Boston College on the 72" television screen.

Around 11:00 PM, Samantha and I slid out back for a cigarette. I smoked, and she really did not, but I offered and she took a few puffs anyway. I really just wanted an excuse to get her alone amid all the excitement; as, since arriving, we had had not one minute of alone time. Immediately after finishing my cigarette and flicking it for what seemed like a country mile, Samantha lunged into my arms. I could tell from her embrace, and a moment later her smile and the way that she kissed me that something special had happened in Vermont.

I arrived in Boston at the great Boston College University at around 3:00 PM. I have driven nearly eighty miles an hour the whole way and had only stopped two times as necessary. I was excited to see Samantha, and hold her in my arms once again. On my drive up, my mind began to wander to Vermont. "What would it be like to spend a winter in Vermont; and in which city would I choose"? These were questions of and intense wrenching in my gut that needed answered, but I would put it off until my drive home back to Frostburg after the Easter visit.

Samantha was in her dorm when I called. Her roommate I was familiar with as I had met her in Vermont. It seemed that she and Lee, my best friend had hit it off as well; as they too had been talking since Spring Break. We decided on an early dinner and then drinks at a local Irish pub near the university. As usual, I had to pick the place, even though this was Samantha's stompin' ground. It seems that after the Vermont excursion, she had already come to trust my instincts in the culinary venue; as I am like a proper bloodhound when it comes to sniffing out good eats, treats and libations.

We decided to stay local and dine at "The Boston College Club" for an early dinner at my request. It far exceeded my expectations in both service and offerings. Table service included red table linens and the bar was seated with emerald green high-back chairs. We opted to have a drink first. Since this was a classy place and offered top-shelf liquors, I ordered an Oban and ginger on the rocks. Samantha was in a fruity mood and ordered a "Sex on the Beach". After two cocktails, we were seated for dinner at 4:45 PM, our reservation time.

The club is set up in such a way that it is entirely possible to have weddings or engagement parties, office space for those who desire a quiet place to work, and other amenities typically found at any high-end country club. There is even membership; and of course, membership dues for eligible alumni. I had salmon and Samantha went visceral on me and had a Filet. She ordered it medium-rare, which created an intoxicating moment...a woman who likes a little bit of "moo" left in her steak...unheard of!

After dinner, we headed uptown to find a proper Irish pub. We would certainly have an interesting evening.

After reading Samantha's letter I was ecstatic. She had invited me for Easter. I phoned her straight away and was able to reach her. We reminisced for what seemed like hours about Vermont, but our conversation was less than thirty minutes. Despite the brevity, we were able to make a plan. I would pick her up in Boston and we would travel together to her home-place in New Jersey.

It was less than a week away, so I had to begin planning the journey fast and ironing out all of the details. I called Dad and asked to re-borrow the $1000 dollars that I had paid back from my Vermont trip loan. Since I had made good on the first loan, he agreed that I needed some funds for my trip to Jersey by way of Boston.

I had also decided that I needed to have a gift for the family and for Samantha. The gift for my hosts would be a couple of bottles of vino, but for Samantha, it needed to be something special. The Pandora Bracelet Collection came to mind. Surely they would have a pair of skis as a ornamental item that could go on a bracelet. I searched online. After some searching, I found a charm that resembled someone on a snowboard, and this could commemorate the invitation to Stowe and the memories there of the winter games and our first and last few days together; until now.

With a wallet full of fifties; my favorite bill, and a car full of drinks and snacks, I headed for Boston. I was excited to visit her at college and meet some of her friends. Surely she would introduce me, as the letter she had written and the excitement in her voice as we spoke were positive indicators that she; a) hoped I would accept her invitation, and b) meet her in Boston and drive together to New Jersey...both of which I did.

It would take me about ten hours all told, with a few stops along the way to make it to Samantha in Boston. It was a beautiful Spring day, and I left on a Wednesday. I would stay with Samantha that evening, and then we would take the additional five hours to her home near Cherry Hill, New Jersey, at a slow pace.

Philip,

I hope this letter finds you well. I have now been back in Boston for nearly a month and I have been thinking of you often. Vermont was an eye-opening experience in a number of ways. I was able to clear my head over Spring Break, meet you, and in general get a lot of thinking done.

While our course of study; which is roughly the same, is geared toward jobs as practitioners, I believe I have decided to enter industry. My father has made an excellent career as an accountant in the pharmaceutical industry, and I have myself decided to pursue science.

The time spent with you, Lee and the others was amazing. The powdery white snow, the meals we shared, a few bottles of excellent wine here and there, the competition at Stowe that you made me feel welcome to join you for, etc, All of these things made for a wonderful and memorable trip that I will hold close to my heart.

With that being said, I would like to extend an invitation to you. I spoke with my mother and father upon my arrival home from Spring Break and stayed a nite with them before returning to Boston. They agreed that I could invite you, Philip, to our home in New Jersey. And while it is not "My Boston", I hope you will come and perhaps spend a day or so with me in Boston toward the end of Easter Break.

As you might imagine from an Irish Catholic family, there will be family to meet and church to attend. If this is an issue in any way, consider this offer rescinded. It is important to me that you meet my family with "open arms". 

If this all sounds good, I'll see you in Jersey in a few days. And if you like, you can meet me in Boston and we will travel together to my home.

Missing You,

Samantha

After much too much wine, we once again took a taxi to the chalet. It was dark enough that we could barely see our hands in front of our face. Our saving grace was the North Star; and even at that, I somehow managed to slip and fall on my face. It would become become the "Hallmark Moment" of the trip, and I the laughing stock therein of the evening.

Samantha took the time to nurse me to health that evening. She sat me down next to the fireplace and brought over a lantern for light. After several minutes and plenty of peroxide and pain, the bleeding stopped. She kissed me softly, laid me down beside her, and we slept soundly until dawn.

Morning came quickly the following day. Despite the slight pounding in my head from sulfates; many of them I might add, I awoke hungry enough to devour an elephant.

I wanted our last breakfast to be memorable as well, so I asked Lee and his reigning lady if they would part ways from us for the breakfast hour. I desired to be alone with Samantha. Separating would mean we were on our own till "High Noon", and that is exactly what we did.

No skiing would take place, as we were ordered and rudely rushed out of the chalet by 10:00 AM. I vowed that morning to return to Vermont, and I vowed to have Samantha with me.

Breakfast was split. I ordered scrambled eggs, rye toast and a broiled grapefruit with cinnamon blazed into the flesh. To my surprise, Samantha ordered the same; and in some ways, we were already acting like a couple who had spent eons together. I enjoyed her company immensely, but it was quickly coming to a close.

After two hours at Cafe on Main, we decided to hop into Samantha's Jetta and head toward the meeting place we had set with Lee prior to the long trek home. Frostburg State University was just a shade over ten hours away. It seemed as if the drive took only twenty minutes, and we only stopped twice to refuel and use the "office". Lee and I talked about our respective partnerships that we had formed, and how much we desired for those relationships; now built, to remain intact.

We made it to the "Quad" on campus and to Allen Hall just shy of 11:00 PM that evening. While the drive seemed fast, we were both terribly exhausted. We had reminisced the entire way about our new partners. I even had proof on my cheek; still red from windburn and pain, that my story was one-hundred percent true.

It was now the end of March and soon it would be Easter break. Our respective colleges were not on the same schedule,; however, but I decided I somehow, someway, had to see Samantha. She had decided she was returning home to Jersey for Easter, and I had yet to be invited. "I must see her", I thought!

Her family lineage was Irish and starkly Catholic. While it had been several years since I had personally been to church, I knew that would be part part of the plan if invited; and invitation accepted, to Samantha's home.

She had written me several letters between Spring Break and now as we were nearing Easter, and I had kept up with the natural flow of communication via email. At least I had fulfilled my obligation and promise to keep in touch, and she had done so as well. She was faithful in sending a card each week of inspiration that almost always arrived in my mailbox on a Friday.

After many moons of wandering, I received the letter.

Our time in Stowe was moving along too quickly. Soon it would be time for Samantha and I to part ways, and I dreaded seeing the form and shape of that final day.

On our second to last evening in Stowe, I found us a restaurant in the form of a beautiful European-styled Chalet. The "Trapp Family Lodge" is a place that was inspired by the "Sound of Music", and has been a destination place in Vermont for some time. As this was a special occasion of sorts, I planned to spare no expense. Samantha and I decided to order two entrees and each ask for an additional plate so that we could share each others vittles. She had the Corned Quebec Duck Breast and I the Grilled Local Wagyu Hanger Steak. Each of us would be delighted in our choice, and each others for that matter, and I was especially fond of the wine list that evening. As an aperitif, I selected the Anton Bauer, Wagram; from Austria. With dinner; as I and Samantha both prefer red wines, we had the Margaux Château Boyd-Cantenac, at a cost of one-hundred and sixteen beans, and finally as a dessert wine we chose the Trittenheimer Apotheke, Bollig-Lehnert, Riesling EiHalf Bottle; an expensive half-bottle at seventy-five dollars. All told, the bill was just shy of four-hundred dollars with tip, and I was close to being miserably broke. I resided to the fact that Lee would have to pay for gas and food on the way back to college; and then, I would owe him too.

I had especially wanted this night to be special, and it had... 

Our accommodations were much the same as they were in Killington. In Vermont, a cabin, is a cabin, is a cabin. Not much difference unless for some reason you do not have electricity; which is entirely possible at times on the blustery winter evenings. That evening, Samantha and I laid on the cabin porch and gazed up at the stars for hours. The universe had applied us with a "Supermoon" that evening, so the sky was lit up like a Christmas morning; or evening perhaps.

We talked more about me coming to Boston. It was evident to me that she wanted to continue the journey that we had started just a few days prior. And frankly, I was more that alright with this idea. Boston for her was a place of magic. And while she was unsettled about her career path, she knew it would soon be time to make a decision. It was the first time that I felt like an advisor to her, and I agreed as we went along and talked about it to help her figure things out. This gave her a calm feeling inside, she mentioned; so our conversation turned back to focusing on the final days of our vacation.

We would make love that nite, and all seemed right with the world. 

The games started at 10:00 AM. We decided to go to the half-pipe that morning and try to catch a sneak peek at the best snowboarding athletes in the world. The half-pipe was literally lined with thousands of people screaming at the top of their lungs. Jump after jump and twist after twist, the crowd roared. Shawn White was the only professional that I specifically knew, but he was a crowd favorite and a standout that morning. Some even stayed after the competition to sign autographs, hats, t-shirts and the likes. It was a close race; but in the end, White was victorious. And while it was not an Olympic event, seeing the U.S. take the winner's circle is always a welcome event.

We decided to ski ourselves for the afternoon as check-in was not until 3:00 PM. We took a few runs from 1:00 - 3:00 PM and promptly met at the bottom of the hill at 2:45 PM. Lee and Julie were tired, and Samantha and I nodded in agreeance with that notion. We were all tired after the long nite before, the drive, the excitement at the half-pipe and of course a few runs ourselves. We would nap until 5:30 PM we decided and then scope out a place for dinner.

I decided to keep our first dinner in Stowe affordable, as the money that my father had loaned me had to last for the next four days. Once returning to school, I would have that debt to pay within thirty days as promised, and then I would be free and clear of all encumbrances. That afternoon, I dreamed of going to Boston to see Samantha. We had come so far in a short amount of time and I wondered how fast and how smoothly it would continue. My dreams were wholesome that day, as I thought about us walking in downtown Boston, visiting her school; classmates and friends, the local hangouts and just spending time with her.

I awoke before Samantha and decided to get a hot shower. My body was tired from the day before and my throat was a bit sore from the yelling that morning, The competition had been amazing at the half-pipe and I wanted dinner to be affordable, but also an appropriate end to the evening. I decided on the Matterhorn restaurant, bar and grille.

Once arriving, we were greeted by the staff and seated in a booth. It was both rustic and homey. Since 1950, they had been seating guests in a barn-like atmosphere with fireplaces, a nice bar area, pool tables, a few games and finally your typical seating. They had advertised burgers, pizza, and Sushi; of which I just happened to want all three. Maybe not such a good combination for wine; as I had had quite a few bottles on this trip, but at any rate, a craft beer would have to do. They had exactly forty-two brews on tap and I opted for just two of the local ones with dinner. Samantha, Lee and Julie also opted for beer which made things easy for our server, Alexis.

She had been in Stowe since the beginning of her college days and was studying engineering. Like Lee, she wanted to do something in the ski/snowboarding/winter recreation industry, let's say. She was "on the ball" and never let us get thirsty. We shared a pizza and a mountain of Sushi, and I additionally had a burger; just as I had wanted. My stomach would later thank me in a negative-type of way, but I was happy at the dinner table nonetheless.

Samantha challenged Julie and Lee to a game of pool. I was still eating Sushi as if I would never have another meal, so they played "Cut-throat" initially. After I had stuffed myself to the gills, I came into the picture and proceeded not only to be on Julie's team, but to whip Lee and Julie. Julie was not a "game" sportsman; however, she was a force to be reckoned with on the slopes. After pool, we played darts for a while, which Lee was nearly a pro, and Julie was much better at. While coming close, close was no cigar and Samantha and me remained victorious for the evening. It was time to settle in at the cabin.

The next morning, Lee & Julie and Samantha & me were up at 5:30 AM packing in order to make the trip to Stowe. The trip is about ninety minutes south on mostly good highways, so we would be there by 8:00 AM just in time for breakfast. The events started at 10:00 AM, so our timing would have to be spot on.

As we drove, Samantha and Julie talked up a storm. They included us once in a while, but mostly Lee an I talked about the events and people we were most excited in seeing. The radio played softly and at one point we all sang loudly in unison to the song, "American Pie". It seemed appropriate as we were on holiday and had not a care in the world, but we were ecstatic to be on winter break and to be enjoying it on the slopes. It was even more enjoyable for Lee and I as we had trusted companions in Julie and Samantha for the final four days in Stowe. In total, our vacation was a whopping nine days.

I called my father that morning on the drive. He is a early riser, so I phoned him about 6:00 AM. He was happy to receive my call and got the scoop on how we all were doing. I promised to call him later that afternoon and tell him the good news about Samantha, but this morning my request was a replenishment of cash. He promised to go to the bank promptly at 9:00 AM if I would in turn pay off the balance within thirty days so he would not pay any interest. I agreed, and a $1,000 deal was made at the push of a few buttons on my cell phone.

We arrived at Stowe at 8:30 AM. During some points of the drive, Lee stuck his head out the window to feel the cool breeze in his face in order to stay awake. He and Julie must not have gotten much sleep either.

As I had done for our time in Killington, I was in charge of where and what we would eat...based on recommendations from the peanut gallery of course. The "Dutch Pancake" at the Grey Fox Inn just minutes from the mountain is where we would have breakfast. In addition to eggs, bacon, pancakes, waffles, sausage, orange juice and tomato juice (hangover juice), I ordered a bowl of oatmeal as well and an English muffin laced with peanut butter and honey. We all ate like "little piggies".

It was decided and set into stone that Samantha was coming with me to Stowe. Lee’s acquaintance would also be traveling with us; and I wandered how we would get six passengers in a small VW Rabbit, but then again, we have all seen the commercials, right? But there was one more evening of candor and conversation in Vermont.

It seemed after every run down the slopes as we would return up on the gondolier our conversations between Samantha and I were getting more intense. Could I have possibly found the love of my life in Vermont? I pondered, as she talked almost obsessively. Samantha was undoubtedly a catch. Mother and father would certainly be proud. She had come from and educated and well-to-do family, was beautiful and had brains to match, and was personable, funny, and I now knew; great in the sack.

We stopped for lunch around 3:30 PM and went to the lodge for a lite snack. We would eat early and then stay up late by the campfire. Both Jason and Todd's friends/acquaintances had returned to their respective colleges, so it would only be six for dinner. And if I was lucky, I was going to talk Jason and Todd into staying behind. Reluctantly, they obliged.

The last evening, I ferried everyone; well the four of us, to The Wobbly Barn. This place is absolutely jammin’ this time of year, and perhaps every week, no doubt. A barn at inception, this barn turned restaurant becomes not only a restaurant at nite, but more of a “scene” to be reckoned with. It is considered a Steakhouse and does open and close seasonally, but that is something that the locals are willing to endure, I suppose.

On the night that we were there, they were having their first, “Jack Daniels Tennessee Whiskey Drink Contest”. Not to be outdone, I ordered some Gentleman Jack prior to my meal; which was probably not a smart move, but I reasoned that I was going to be putting steak and a big helping of mashed potatoes on top to secure its’ position in my guts.

The menu has quite a few offerings of seafood to go along with the “Full-Monte” of steak offerings. I am particularly a fan of the Rib-Eye because of the parts. You get a filet and some additional steak cuts. Samantha and I also decided to split a lobster tail and had some cocktail shrimp as an appetizer. Lee and his better-half spared no expense as well. It was our last nite in Killington, and we were going to do it up right.

We were smart enough to hail a taxi in order to get everyone home safely. It would have been nice if the Inn would have been ski-in, ski-out; however, I probably would have ended up with a broken leg instead. The "cabbie" had been a native to Vermont, and I was cognizant enough to ask him for a few more restaurant recommendations. He kindly obliged, and we would have a few places to visit, or at least one more night of drunken candor, as we were heading over to Stowe.

Samantha and I found our usual place by the fire, and the logs made our noses that more red; as they already were from the massive amounts of libations that we had ingested. After discussing if Samantha would travel to me with Stowe, she began kissing me with a flair that reminisced of a more mature relationship. She rolled up on her knees, grabbed my hand and began to escort me to the bedroom. At this time, I knew it was finally going to happen. We had only known each other for a few days, but time was not a factor it seemed. Our relationship had grown exponentially from day one.

She laid me down on my back and began to kiss me from head to toe. I could feel her hands of silk as she ran them over me in addition to her tongue, cheeks, nose, etc. I could even feel a certain “fire of desire” in her eyes. It would be a long nite together, and neither of us would sleep. 

We made it to the bedroom in each other’s arms as we were ravishing each other’s bodies on the way from the hot tub to the bedroom. Her lips were as soft as pillows, her hair as silky as a spider web, her eyes, I continued to get lost in by the moment. I prayed that the afternoon would never end. She undressed to a camisole and her panties, and climbed in the bed, slapping the bed like a dominatrix as if to say, “Boy, get your rumpus in this bed, immediately”.  I obliged. While we would do nothing but run our arms across the skin of one another and kiss that afternoon, by the end of the week, I believed I would have known and would continue to learn about every inch of her.

After a two hour nap, it was 4:30 PM. We decided we could get a few runs in before meeting up with everyone for dinner. That nite, there would be eight dining, and I had picked someplace special. Samantha had twisted my arm into returning to the chalet for some pre-dinner wine from my stash. I obliged.

After a few runs down the slope, we once again took the gondola over toward our ski-in, ski-out chalet, and arrived back at 6:30 PM. While dinner was supposed to be at 7:30 PM, Samantha and I arrived fashionably late at around 8:00 PM. Lee and his date had ordered whiskeys; Jason and his date; a bottle of wine, and Todd and his date had a local craft brew in hand. I could already see where the night was heading. The Birch Ridge Inn was a hit with the whole party; and I mean “party”, that evening. It seemed as if round after round of drinks came without a hint of astonishment from the proud “holder of the glass”. There was no shame in finishing them either.

Samantha and I had already had a bottle of wine; so unlike the others, we decided to take the evening at a slower stride. We did, however, order a bottle of wine immediately on our arrival to the Inn. I started with a bowl of asparagus soup, and to my surprise, Samantha had the same. While one might think that Samantha might go by “Sam” in college; or even perhaps a nickname from home, this would never be the case from me. She was too beautiful, too proper, too kind, to unreserved and too cute to be called anything but, “Samantha”. She deserved the appropriate level of respect and authority that came with the name.

Once clean, we headed to the north side of the slopes to the double black diamond facades. It would be a long day of skiing, but I kept focused on the coming evening. Dinner and…whatever, as long as Samantha was also part of the equation. She had captured me, and my heart!

By afternoon, we had made quite a few runs. Samantha was tired and suggested a quick dip in the hot tub and then a nap. I was on vacation; and I was always fond of naps, so I readily agreed. We headed back to the chalet via ski lift. As we moseyed along at what seemed like a snail’s pace we talked about what we would be doing in a few years. I was pretty set on going to medical school if I could pass organic chemistry. Since Samantha’s father had worked in industry and had had a successful career, Samantha was unsure. All we really knew at this point is that thankfully we had a few years to figure it out; she less time than me.

It did not take us long to find bathing suits and libations for the hot tub. I had brought a bottle of Chateneauf du Pape and she delightfully accepted my offer to taste a bit of the “nectar of the Gods”. It has a smell of mint on the nose and one of the most distinct tastes in all the world. La Vieux Telegraphe had been my favorite wine to date. She additionally could appreciate the vino which made me likely to share the additional gems that I had packed especially for this occasion.

After a long stint in the tub at one hundred and four degrees, I offered the idea of a nap. Today we would find ourselves in the “boudoir”, again wrapped in each other’s arms. She felt like nothing I had ever felt, smelled or touched. As a college guy, I was good at “sizing” girls up, as I had been around a few at this point; and with some of them in less than even a Roman sheet. I surmised that Samantha was a 34-B and would hopefully be finding out by the end of the week. Lee was also tied closely to his new friend, and Jason and Todd had only acquaintances it seemed; however, they were indeed, “hot to trot: college girls.  

I was a sophomore in college at Frostburg State University. There were four of us that decided that we wanted to go to one of the better mountains on the east coast for a skiing trip for spring break. Lee was the one who knew the resorts the best, and over the next two weeks we would travel to Stowe, Killington, and a few other smaller venues along the way. Lee made the plans, we packed the “Laurie”!

We had planned our outing around the Winter Games Expo at Stowe. It was primarily a snowboarding event, but there was extreme skiing events as well on tap for the weekend. Jason and I skied and Lee and Carson took their snowboards. We had also planned to find us some “snow bunnies” that week, as they would surely be out; and at the time, we were all eligible bachelors.

We rented a small lodge with four beds so that we would all have a comfortable place to lay down our “big” heads after long days of cold weather and “boozing” by the fire. We would eat at some fast food joints and have good dinners in the evening so as to lower our “blood alcohol levels”.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, the slopes were already buzzing. We had traveled mainly up I-95 thru blustery winds and combed back snow banks along the interstate. We were ready to conquer the mountains at Killington; our first stop, at a moment’s notice. Jason did most of the driving in his Volkswagen Rabbit. It was an economical car of sorts, but none of us were comfortable for the eight-plus hour drive up thru Pennsylvania and Connecticut en route to Vermont. It would be the first time that I visited a resort of this magnitude.

After a few minutes of donning our attire, we hit the slopes. After a few runs, we decided to pack it in for day one, and go searching for a steak and later on the ladies. It would not take long, and we would; luckily, each find a partner for the weekend. Mine was a fiery redhead from Boston College. It was the first time that she had visited such a resort as well. Samantha immediately caught my eye. With her curly hair, blue eyes and fiery personality, I surmised we could definitely have a good “run”; both on the slopes and off for the weekend.

Samantha was a senior and had studied biochemistry. She was unsure to the fact as if she would enter graduate school, industry, med school or law school. What I did know is when she talked, the gaze of her soft blue eyes were unmistakably attractive. That first night, we opened a bottle of “two-buck chuck” and sat by the fireplace in our cabin for hours. Jason and the others had decided to paint the town, so it was just Samantha and I. While I was only in a Division-3 school, I felt as if I was getting a comparable or perhaps even better education than she at Boston College. She may have had a better nite-life scene, but I had a better classroom experience.

Her father was a “bean counter” for a large pharmaceutical firm in Cherry Hill, New Jersey, and her mother was a homemaker. We also had this in common, although my father’s paycheck always seemed to come up partly missing on payday. Samantha’s father, on the other hand, had always had discretionary income and shared every dime with the exception of his retirement savings with the family. Sadly, I knew that my education and experience thereafter would be my father and mother’s retirement plan. It mattered not.

We stayed up until the early dawn and laid down by the fire finally at 4:30 AM. The others had stumbled in; and I mean stumbled at around 3:00 AM. I looked forward to another day of skiing at Killington, as in two days we would travel to Stowe to watch the Winter Games. I wandered all thru the nite as we talked if I could possibly twist Samantha’s arm, or bully her into coming with my charm.

At 8:00 AM, I woke up to find my arm wrapped around Samantha’s mid-section. It mattered not that I had cuddled her, and her hair glistened with an eerie patina from the fireplace. We had spent our first nite together and quietly that morning, I prayed for it to be the first of many. Breakfast was conducted at a small café, The Liquid Art Coffeehouse. This is a place known for breakfast by the locals. As for me, when I plan a vacation, it is first about food and then about the activities. The Liquid Art Coffeehouse lived up to the hype from the apps on my iPhone such as Yelp! And Urban Spoon.

After breakfast, Samantha suggested that we swing by the cabin, as she mentioned she had left something there. Boy, was I in for a surprise. Our cabin had a detached hot tub and outside shower. She took me by my hand to the latter and ushered me in. She very calmly, but with vigor kissed me on the lips. She proceeded to undress me as the hot water ran over our soon to be naked bodies. It was my first attempt at a shower in 15 degree weather and I was even more enthralled by the company. We must have stayed in there for an hour.

Once clean, we headed to the north side of the slopes to the double black diamond facades. It would be a long day of skiing, but I kept focused on the coming evening. Dinner and…whatever, as long as Samantha was also part of the equation. She had captured me, and my heart!

I was a sophomore in college at Frostburg State University. There were four of us that decided that we wanted to go to one of the better mountains on the east coast for a skiing trip for spring break. Lee was the one who knew the resorts the best, and over the next two weeks we would travel to Stowe, Killington, and a few other smaller venues along the way. Lee made the plans, we packed the “Laurie”!

We had planned our outing around the Winter Games Expo at Stowe. It was primarily a snowboarding event, but there was extreme skiing events as well on tap for the weekend. Jason and I skied and Lee and Carson took their snowboards. We had also planned to find us some “snow bunnies” that week, as they would surely be out; and at the time, we were all eligible bachelors.

We rented a small lodge with four beds so that we would all have a comfortable place to lay down our “big” heads after long days of cold weather and “boozing” by the fire. We would eat at some fast food joints and have good dinners in the evening so as to lower our “blood alcohol levels”.

When we arrived on Friday afternoon, the slopes were already buzzing. We had traveled mainly up I-95 thru blustery winds and combed back snow banks along the interstate. We were ready to conquer the mountains at Killington; our first stop, at a moment’s notice. Jason did most of the driving in his Volkswagen Rabbit. It was an economical car of sorts, but none of us were comfortable for the eight-plus hour drive up thru Pennsylvania and Connecticut en route to Vermont. It would be the first time that I visited a resort of this magnitude.

After a few minutes of donning our attire, we hit the slopes. After a few runs, we decided to pack it in for day one, and go searching for a steak and later on the ladies. It would not take long, and we would; luckily, each find a partner for the weekend. Mine was a fiery redhead from Boston College. It was the first time that she had visited such a resort as well. Samantha immediately caught my eye. With her curly hair, blue eyes and fiery personality, I surmised we could definitely have a good “run”; both on the slopes and off for the weekend.

I’m going to fast forward once again to my high school days. In the early nineties, I spent many a weekend at a friend’s house near Deep Creek Lake. His father a wine shop owner, his mother an educational activist and artist; two younger sisters, and then there was Lee. 

Lee played tight end on the varsity football team and was incredibly athletic. Compared to me, he simply ran circles around me on the slopes whether it be on skies or even a snowboard, sad to say. I remember spending many a time trying to navigate the moguls to catch up, but he was too far gone. On blistery days or when they were making snow, I would lose him in an instant. Despite his advanced ability, he was my best friend on the lake. We would even keep up with each other once we parted ways in high school and headed to college.

I always knew that Lee would end up on the west coast, and shortly after graduation he did. But it was two weeks in Vermont that I will never forget, and this is where my story really starts…

ONE WINTER IN VERMONT

As a child I learned to ski at a young age. On weekends I would travel to Swanton, Maryland, to arrive at my Aunt’s house. She lived in a log cabin of sorts, and it was beautiful on a winter afternoon and especially on a winter evening. As the Northern Lights shown down upon the covered porch, I could barely see thru to the lake at Nana’s house. That would have been my cousin’s grandmother.

               

 Deep Creek Lake is one of the most picturesque in all the United States. Nestled in the middle of a small resort town, it is home to only eight hundred folks. However, the value of the land itself, and the housing on top of it would surely reach more than a few and possibly several hundred millions. Millions that some owners would never dream of.

The first bungalows; and I mean just that, popped up on Deep Creek Lake in the mid-fifties. Owners were simply happy to own a piece of land on the water. You see, the Army Corps of Engineers were tasked with the project in the early 1950’s. The end result would be a man-made lake that was finished in the late fifties. Houses would soon pop up here and there, as the local businessman were the only ones who could afford such a luxury.

               

  Fast forward to age five, in 1982. I traveled to my Aunt’s house on the weekend en route to Wisp Ski Resort. Later built, it is a small mountain set upon a nice grade of mountain land with elevation nearing 4,000 feet above sea level. The slopes hold about twenty-seven trails, everything from a bunny slope which is about a mile long, to double-black diamond slopes fit for any professional.

                As most people would imagine; and they would be right, I learned to ski down the mountain with a rope around my waist following in my Uncle’s tracks. Lessons were held on Saturday mornings and I participated with enthusiasm. It would not be long before I was flying down the bunny slope at a breakneck speed. As I got better, I tried bigger and more advanced slopes. Each weekend, it seemed as if my knowledge, skills and abilities were enhanced.