To our Caitlin, Little did I know when I took you and Kendra to the mountain the first time what I had started. I knew I couldn't start you on my own, and that I had missed my time in the brisk winter weather. If I didn't do it, no one else would. The three of us traveled the winter roads to Sunday River for three years alone, meeting 'the club' when we arrived. Do you remember the time you and Kendra didn't tell me that you'd dropped the can of root beer before you asked me to open it as I was driving? We were all covered. Then Dad S joined our group....Sunday River the day before the ice storm of '98; you screaming because you couldn't see us in the fog, and all of us wearing the see through plastic trash bags as the rain came down...our last New England winter for years. But the mountains called us back...every summer and finally to stay. You were 12 when we returned, and we found a way to ski. You enjoyed the comps from our job the first year, taught Mogul Meisters the next few, a year off, then you were teaching again...and I'd watch for you with your group of charges as I rode up the chair. Now look at you...11,000 ft and acres upon acres of powder...you've come a long way lady. We're proud of you, always have been always will. love, Mom