Weathering the cold

The last time I lived in a place where it snowed regularly was in 2000 in New York City. New York snow is not like Midwest snow. This year at Christmas we got over three feet. We managed to shuttle everyone to Christmas dinner in a truck and ambulance with snow plows strapped to the front. Ruben, Lily and I put on our toughest winter snow gear to trek one block through waist deep snow.

Some nights when I get bored of Mafia Wars, Farmville and all the other silly Facebook applications I'm cracked out on, I walk down the city steps and head downtown. This is a small town and there's always going to be some locals hanging out after work. It's also a tourist town, so between the gambling crowd, the snowmobiling groups and skiers you never know how busy (or how much it will resemble a ghost town) Main St. will be on any given day. The #10 ( is the market indicator of Deadwood. If the #10 is busy it's a good night, if not, most of the card dealers, bartenders and cocktail waitresses are yawning and complaining about the lack of tips.

I've walked downtown in temperatures as low as 2 degrees. Once it gets below freezing I'm usually in for the night. The things about living in a geography where there are actually four seasons that I did not expect are that 1) I don't mind the cold and 2) I absolutely adore the snow (not just for skiing). I know that this has been a milder winter than normal but I've gone out when it's 40 degrees with no coat and been just fine.

Winter has always been my favorite season. And not Bay Area winter. I'm talking about my mom spinning out on black ice in Reno winter, a frozen lake and group retreat in Pennsylvania winter and the crisp in the air when it hits 35 degrees in Connecticut winter. Winter is clean and pure and refreshing. Here in The Black Hills it is stunningly breathtaking (even when you have to shovel).

I absolutely adore my walks downtown though I always take a cab home, because, walking home from Downtown means walking UP the city steps.