Can you really fall out of love with a place

I believe you can because it happened with me – is happening with me.

When I moved to Granby in 2007, I chose this place because of the beautiful, remote, mountain landscape, and for the plentiful hiking and world-class skiing at Winter Park Resort.

Things have changed so much in my life, as I suspect happens to a lot of people, and I am thinking of other places, warmer places. Places like Tucson or San Diego, or even Denver. I haven’t loved a city since 1988 when I thought I would live in Boston and be an athletic trainer for the Boston Bruins.

I became a small-town girl once I moved to Maine and reinforced it when I moved a year later to Vermont. When I lived in Vermont I was that skier who loved to get first and last chair. I was a ski bum with a job. I learned how to après ski at Killington. In the summer I hiked sections of the Long Trail. I perfected eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream in one sitting.

Killington Peak is much like seeing Devil’s Thumb on the Continental Divide; it was a figure on the landscape that reassured me that I was in the right place - a rocky mound that served as a reminder of beauty and an inspiration to artistry.

I haven’t skied much this season. I haven’t hiked a big mountain in years.

I am falling out of love with the mountains which begs the questions, can you really fall out of love with a place?

As my boss paces back and forth in front of my desk telling tales of hiking 14ers, I’m learning why I’m falling out of love with this place: I’m not doing the things that made me love it in the first place.

With an early spring and hopefully the hiking and mountain biking trails accessible soon, I’m going to do everything I can to fall back in love. Hiking big mountains. Camping. Backpacking.

I’m still going to swim, bike, and run – the things I could do year-round if I lived in Tucson or San Diego, but I’m going to get back on track. I’m going to hike the big mountains and all the little ones in Grand County.