grilled cheese
Submited By zorba On 2007-12-01
A belly full.

Sitting by the fire, legs sore, whiskey melting ice in the glass beside me, the first thing I remember about this, the first day of the season, is grilled cheese. The cheddar oozed from the foil wrapping and dripped on the old, rusted stove as the smell of garlic butter blended into the pine-smoke air. It wasn’t the deep hoar crust layer that will plague us all year and possibly take the lives of friends. It wasn’t the shin-deep cold dry powder that we lazily gladded down, nicking edges on granite boulders with profanity. There were no cliff drops, no endless fresh tracks or bold first descents. It wasn’t even the forecast of pineapples and soggy, shitty rain. No, today was about good friends, the Sun Spot Cabin above Nancy Green Summit and laughing at viscous grilled cheese sandwiches dripping on an old potbelly stove. It makes me hungry for more.