Central Oregon is one of those rare places where people actually get excited for winter. We hold ski season pass parties, drink beers with names like Pray For Snow, and pine for that first morning when we draw back the drapes to find a fresh blanket of snow outside of our doors.
Humor me for a minute: what would you do if there was nothing to do? I’m talking zero stimulation. No phone within arms-reach, no one nagging you to unload the dishwasher, not even a snowy slope to barrel down.