Letters to an old Friend

January 5th, 2025

While in Atlanta, we decided that the marathon drive back and forth between Houston was not enough. We needed to add in a bonus 5 hour each way drive to North Carolina.

Why North Carolina you maybe asking. Skiing.

Skiing has a special place in my heart. While some kids grow up having an annual  camping trip, some go to Disney yearly, and other families go to the Jersey shore every summer, our family had an annual ski trip.

We moved to San Francisco in 1988, when I was three. Starting that year, our family would take a spring trip to Lake Tahoe. Throughout the years we went to various ski resorts, sometimes renting a house friends, sometime just the four of us at a low budget motel.

To me, some of my fondest childhood core memories took place on those trips. This was when my family was a strong unit of four. It was before mental illness, before divorce, and before a cross country move that kept me 6-hrs flight apart from my dad and brother.

Skiing reminds me of when I was a child, a 6-hour drive with my family listening to the soundtrack of Guys and Dolls, and Frank Sinatra Duets. Skiing reminds me of standing around a street fighter arcade game with my childhood best friend. Skiing reminds me of the best moments on the chair lift, playing games, laughing and telling stories with my brother and my dad.

This was my first time skiing with my brother as an adult. Gliding down the mountain like “two Nordic Doves” (his words, not mine), and all the joy of skiing keep my freezing body warm.

With love, bkap🫶🏻