Moving From Old Snowmass to Basalt, Colorado

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Moving From Old Snowmass to Basalt, Colorado

Moving From Old Snowmass to Basalt, Colorado

We’ve moved a lot, this is true. Perhaps it wouldn’t be so heart-wrenching that our kids get uprooted every 4-5 years if my parents hadn’t resided in the same house forever, giving my sisters and I the comforting feeling of stability and a deep rooted sense of place and belonging.

As difficult as it was to leave our “dream home“, once we were in our new place we rarely looked back. The downside from moving from the countryside to downtown suburbia was that our neighbors homes were so close that we could no longer run around naked, or have a private conversation when outside, and Baddy and I had to keep our windows closed lest we get too noisy playing with each other on our unexpected date nights. The upside was that our transportation system (RFTA) provided the kids with more freedom, and all my peeps were just a stones’ throw away.

According to The New York Times, Basalt, Colorado began as a rough Colorado railroad town in the late 1800’s. I was quite happy living in this small western town in the “banana belt”with a history. The air was warmer than where we came from in Old Snowmass, and fruit trees, and bears to devour the fruit, were everywhere.

In Basalt I had my village with neighbors who put our boys to work, and close friends who popped in unannounced for coffee and wine at any given moment, regardless of the time of day. Five minutes away I had my Fitness Studio, a well run affordable studio that boasted kickass teachers. I had Whole Foods Market down the highway where I walked in and the people working there would go out of their way to help me to find the perfect recipes. I got my free-range eggs delivered weekly from a nearby rancher, and the downvalley City Market, unlike the one in Aspen, did not bring forth my Masshole side the second I walked through the door.

I also had Big John and Steve over at High Tone Autobody who were there for me when my stolen totaled car arrived in their “impounded” lot, after being jacked from our driveway (located next to the police station), and there for me when I screeched up in the Hyundai with 6 boys piled inside to get a door fixed that wouldn’t close when on our way to go summer skiing at Copper Mountain.

That was my life both in Old Snowmass and while in Basalt, driving with a carload of farting, burping boys and listening to extremely loud music that would assault the ears of anyone older than 25. A fact that Baddy in his Black Fly sunglasses and signature visor hat often taunted me with, “What on earth has happened to our little Princess?” he’d lovingly joke, patting me on the ass just to show who won in this game.

At least the most important man in my life recognizes that once upon a time, I indeed lived the life of a princess.

 

My favorite Basalt Garden
My favorite Basalt Garden
Hunting Turkeys on My Favorite Hike
Hunting Turkeys on My Favorite Hike

Watch Video: in the car

 

 

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