A month in the life: Arapahoe Basin

Dillon, Colorado //

It looks as though storms are upon us today.  On one hand, the precipitation is needed, so I hate to complain.  On the other hand, rain and wind will add nothing but complication to our workday today, which entails photographing a wedding at 11,500’.  With that in mind, I make a couple of phone calls this morning to get authorization for us to drive to the venue rather than take the chairlift.  While all 130 guests will be stuck taking the chairlift back to the base at 10 p.m., whether it’s raining or not, we’d much rather give ourselves the opportunity to stay warm and dry on our drive home.

Mark drops me off in the tiny, hidden mountain village of Montezuma.  I begin photographing the bride getting ready at her parents’ vacation home while heavy pellets of hail begin pelting the ground outside.  Get it out now and be done with it.  This is my silent message to nature as I consider how difficult the rest of the day could be in these conditions.  Mark, now at the venue at Arapahoe Basin, calls to tell me the lift has been shut down due to the weather but hopefully will reopen soon.  By the time the bride and I arrive 30 minutes later, in typical Colorado fashion, the sun is shining and the lift is operating.  She and I board for the 10-minute ride to the top of the mountain where we meet Mark and the groom.

The next hour is when Mark and I do our best to complete portraits of the wedding party and couple as quickly and efficiently as possible so that the bride and groom can get on with enjoying their day.  In today’s case, our efficiency is vital because our weather window is closing quickly.  By the time we’re wrapping up photos, the skies have once again turned dark, the temperature has dropped, the wind is picking up, and a few small flakes start falling from the sky.  

Guests begin arriving on the chairlift.  Some are wrapped in blankets, some had the forethought to bring a coat, and some are attempting to shield themselves from the drizzle with an umbrella, but the wind is making that impossible.  Everyone seems to be in good spirits though.  If I didn’t already know, this is how I would have deduced that many of these people are from Colorado.  The weather at mountain wedding venues is always unpredictable.  When we work with couples who have come from out of state and booked the venue sight unseen, the overall reception to bad weather is a vastly different story than what we’re seeing today.  

The rain holds off, allowing for the ceremony to be held outside on the deck.  Magnificent views of the towering peaks that surround the lodge make for one of the most impressive places to get married in all of Colorado.  Moving the ceremony indoors is always a last resort as the views are the entire reason couples choose to get married at a place like this.  The rain may have held off, but the temps still plummet into the 40s.  I notice the bridesmaids shaking and feel grateful for the blazer I’m wearing, though I’m still quite cold.  I’ll never know if the bride naturally runs warm or was distracted by her bliss, but I never once saw her look remotely bothered by the cold.  Earlier in the day, while she and I were discussing the weather, she said, “There’s no sense in getting upset about the weather; that will negatively affect your overall enjoyment of the entire day.”  Oh, what I would give for all brides to be so sensible and to understand the truth of that statement.

Once the ceremony concludes, the rest of the day is spent inside the warmth of the lodge.  Though not before Mark and the couple take a “victory lap” on the chairlift.  While a 20-minute lift ride in 45-degree weather sounded miserable to me, the couple was all about it.  I’m so glad Mark was up for the task so that I could go thaw out with everyone else indoors.  

At 10 p.m., we load our gear into the truck while everyone else lines up at the chairlift in the cold and drizzle.  I’m so glad to have thought ahead and gotten permission to drive up to the lodge.  It’s a 15-minute slow, bumpy ride down the mountain, but once we’re on pavement, the comfort of our Airbnb is only 10 minutes away.  This moment right here is exactly why we spent the money on accommodations.  Tired and sore from a long day on our feet, we’re both pretty happy that we don’t have to go find and set up camp somewhere.  When we walk through the door of our little rented condo, we toss all our gear on the couch, pop a couple of ibuprofen, and call it a night.