I was by no means born in a small town, nor did I grow up in a small town or spend a significant amount of time in one. I in fact, always thought small town folk were a bit...off the beaten track, odd, toothless, married their cousins, wore so much flannel they probably had flannel socks, drank liquor straight from the bottle at 10 am, by liquor I mean moonshine, had names like Dale and Bertha, and quivered at the idea of cities.
Well I was partially right, small town folk are odd, some are toothless, they do love their flannel and can handle liquor like champions 24/7. I know this because, I am a little off the beaten track, lost my two front teeth in a rafting accident, envy certain people because of their extensive flannel collection and can go head to head with most mountain men in a Coors Light drinking contest. Was I always this back country? Negative. I evolved into this mountain woman species after moving to a small town, Vail, CO. At 8,150 ft above sea level, Vail has approximately 4,531 residents, 3 exits, a mere 3 Starbucks', no downtown, no midtown, no uptown, just...town, a booze driven debauchery filled bar scene and packed 2 am buses that resemble a drug induced sweaty rave that ignores the "maximum capacity" sign while rolling on 4 wheels and reeking of Budweiser and Jagermeister. It is close to impossible to go to the grocery store and leave without having a conversation with someone, absolutely impossible to stay out of the gossip, ridiculously easy to make friends, sometimes impossible to leave the town due to weather conditions, and two hours from the nearest major city. You want to go to Target? Ha! You need to go to Best Buy? Its called online shopping. You don't want people to know you made out with that one guy at a bar? Move.
For the majority of the Vail nightlife party goers (which is anyone from 18 to 35) it is close to impossible to have your personal life kept under the radar. Unless you're one of those cave dwelling hermit people who hate sunlight, moonlight or any other type of light other than the fluorescent bulb illuminating from a lamp that resembles a high-heel rocking leg wearing fishnets. However, if you stay at home to bask in the glow of a hydroponic lamp that is so dutifully nursing a certain plant species to life - then you will fit in quite nicely.
Talking to my city friends about Vail, they don't really understand why I live here but can understand why people would vacation to these parts. I implore them to throw our their heels, purchase a Northface or two, learn to walk on an icy downhill driveway and learn what the saying "As cold as the Rockies" really means. The natural beauty of this area is the type that you wake up every morning look out your window and smile. A genuine smile that reflects an unreal reality only previously seen in postcards. Icicles hanging off my window next to a Douglas Fir that instead of being covered in tinsel is covered in snow and pine cones. A bluebird sky causing the white peaked cliffs to reflect blindingly back at you, and where the only concern of the day is "where are my wool socks?". If you like breathing fresh, uncontaminated, smog-free air, enjoy any amount of physical activity and can get down with a little mountain isolation, then I urge you to change your lifestyle for a winter (or possibly 8 winters/summers). You are guaranteed an experience of a lifetime, some of the best friends you will ever find and a mind boggling connection with nature you don't get by walking to your nearest dog park.
I am quite aware that this is not the smallest town you could move to, not the most back country and not the most isolated...in fact not close to any of those, but it has the genuine small town community feel while being nestled in the midst of the Rockies surrounded by a powdery blanket of snow and flannel.
