If Clement Moore had lived in Park City rather than New York City, this is undoubtedly what he would have written back in 1823. Have a wonderful Christmas, and pray for snow! ‘Twas the night before Christmas, up high on the hill, Not a groomer was running as the mountain stood still. My skis were at Rennstall, tuned and waxed with care, In hopes that a powder dump soon would be there; In Old Town, the ski bums were nestled in beds, While visions of a new pair of Rossis danced in their heads. While Mamma was knitting, I clicked my OpenSnow app, Bored with no snow, we pondered a long winter’s nap, When up on the mountain, there arose such a clatter, I sprang from the app to see what was the matter. Away to the ridgeline I flew in a jiff, Clicked into my bindings and slid onto the lift. The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow Illuminated the snowmakers making runs white below, When, what to my wondering eyes should appear, A convoy of red Pisten Bullys, their lights drawing near. With a grizzled old driver, so lively and quick, I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick. More rapid than Ligety, his snowcats, they came, And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name; “Now, Powder! now, Payday! now, Stein and McConkey! On, Thaynes! on, Jupiter! on, Nabob and Kokopelli! From the top of the ridgeline to the valley below, Their blades laid fresh corduroy into the new-fallen snow. As the snow-filled sleigh approached with winds like a gale, St. Nick commanded they dump it without fail. In the late dwindling light, I heard from Scott’s Bowl, The click of some bindings, coming over the knoll. Through the cloud of fresh snowfall, I saw a ski bum, Whoopin’ and hollerin’, as he made a tree run. He looked like an old local, from stocking cap to toe, Under three inches of white crusting, his face was aglow. His backpack was bulging with goggles and gear, Tucked in a pocket was some High West and beer. He winked as he passed me, flying back to the sleigh, His mission was accomplished, somehow along the way. But I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight, “Merry Christmas to all, and enjoy the snow tonight!” The post Ridgelines: A visit from St. Nicholas appeared first on Park Record. ...read more read less