My parents’ love story began at Loveland, and it seems only fitting that a blog celebrating Valentine's Day would begin here as well.
Family lore tells of the day my father popped the question in 1983. My mom was certain that it was coming during that ski trip, she recalled—it was only a matter of when. She was by no means an expert skier and my dad, she remembered, wanted one trip down the mountain without any falls to set the mood. “One good run,” he’d said. Once that requirement had been met, he stopped a quarter of the way down their next run outside a small warming hut and pulled out the ring he'Read more