There are few places on this beautiful planet I’ve visited that have magical energy, like Sedona, Mt. Roraima in Venezuela, and my hometown hero, the Boulder Star.
Ever since I was a little rat tailed kid, I’ve loved this monument to peace and happiness.
As a kid, the Star represented Christmas, and Christmas represented packages full of G.I. Joes and new socks. It means much more to me now.
As I entered high school and toys became less exciting, we found ways to grasp onto the non-commercial Christmas spirit. We decided to make it a family tradition to hike to the top of the star on Christmas Eve. Mom would fill up the thermos’s with hot chocolate, we’d get all bundled up and slip and slide to the top, pulling mom the entire way (It can be a burly hike depending on how much snow and ice is on the mountain).
The Star now has special meaning to our family for another reason as well. A few years ago, we spread the ashes of my uncle up there so that we’d be reminded of him every time we gazed up at Flagstaff mountain.
Standing at the tippy top, catching your breath after a super steep hike and admiring the sparkly lights below is about as magical as it gets. Boulder is so quiet from above, so peaceful. I stand there and imagine all the sugar infused kids, rolling around restless in their beds, waiting for Santa to come, and sometimes I see a shooting star, and wonder.
Over the years I’ve become somewhat of a tour guide to the Star, and have taken countless friends to enjoy the sparkles and fly down the most insane sled run in Boulder (there has to be LOTS of snow or the rocks will rip your pants wide open).
The fools on the hill:
And make sure to NEVER stick your tongue onto one of the frozen poles up there.
The Star is my favorite part of Christmas in Boulder, it represents everything good about the season.
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Editor: Rachel Nussbaum
Photo: Author’s own