Skiing with the boys, we snuck off the trail and into the snowy trees where we planned to blaze a bowl. Still new to snowboarding, T-Baby ended up getting caught on an obstacle on the way down to the sesh, and dislocated his shoulder. Like a true toker, he fought off the pain, took his board off, and walked down the rest of the way to meet us. As we broke out the tropical buds, the guy with hair the same color of amber hairs on the crack dropped the lighter in the snow. Disheartened from the setback, we worked on getting the lighter to put out a flame for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the purple lighter prevailed, and sent us to marijuana town. Focussed on the sport and giggly, we made our way down to the base and into the restaurant. With eyes redder than the C on the Colorado flag, we sat down at a table and starting laughing. Just as the curiosity of why there were so many children around us began to build, a ski instructor walked over to us and evicted us from our chilling spot, commenting on how it was reserved for ski school only. Maybe it was the Green Crack, but I couldn't help but feel like she subtly checked out my package as we left the table...