What Kind of a Bagel Can Fly?
The thermometer in the car reads 1°F when I pull up to Copper Mountain. The sun hasn’t yet crested the mountain, leaving the world bathed in icy blue winter dawn. It looks cold. I wonder if maybe you’d have to be just a little bit crazy to go to work in these temperatures every morning.
I survey the parking spot I’d snagged. First row of Alpine One. Not bad. Maybe these lift operators were on to something.
Ivy Matthews, crew leader of lift operations, meets me at the Kokomo Express in West Village. She’s been at the mountain since 7am and has just finished writing her daily joke on the information board. She’s settled on, “What kind of a bagel can fly?” after scrapping two other jokes. On a Saturday, the joke has to be top notch…