Aspen. the ski trip.

‘Don’t get hammered. You have a mountain to get down,’ I say to a fellow beginner skier – helmet-hair flattened just so, a pinch of red to the nose from those rays bouncing off the snow on snow on snow - as he pours himself a third red wine over lunch with gay Olympic ski champion Gus Kenworthy. We’re at the top of Buttermilk, the easiest of Aspen’s many skiable mountains, and Gus has offered to take us down after lunch, but we only started skiing yesterday so we wouldn’t put him through that. Especially with Pinot Noir on our breath.

We’re in Aspen, less than an