The Mammoth 6

"Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive,

and it’s only by this meeting that a new world is born."

~Anais Nin

We pile into the minivan, the six of us, with duffel bags and books, snacks for the car, favorite CDs, and bottles of wine for the weekend. There can only be six of us because that's all the minivan can hold, and we must ride in one car. It wouldn't be right to split up. After all, we're in the car for six hours each way, driving from Santa Barbara to Mammoth in October. We don't want to miss a single drop of the invigorating elixir of each other's company. We're giddy to be away from the responsibilities of parenthood, marriage, and jobs for a few days. We relish each minute of just being women together. This is our 2nd annual trip. We know in our bones there will be many more to come.

When we arrive at the condo, we unload our luggage and choose our beds. Most of us will be in one room, a room with two bunk beds and a double bed. This is a ski condo after all,  set up for maximum sleeping accommodations. We're not here to ski though. When we've settled in and changed into our pajamas, a bottle of wine is opened and we snuggle up on the large sofa or stretch out on the floor and talk more! You'd think after six hours together in the car we'd have run out of things to say about our kids, our husbands, our jobs. But there's always more. We're just getting started. As the weekend wears on, we will laugh over shared memories, tell stories from our past, and dreams for the future. We know each other well. A lot of short cuts can be taken in our conversations, a lot needs not be said at all.

In the morning there's the smell of coffee made by the earliest riser to greet the rest of us as, one by one, we stumble downstairs. We are in no rush. There is no place we have to be, and we savor the luxurious gift of time slowed down. The first morning's breakfast is a simple one: yogurt with fruit, nuts, and flax seeds, muffins and juice and lots of coffee. But there will be dinners to prepare together, happy hours to relax into, dessert of course. Nothing feels like a chore here because everything we do, we do together.  

Half the fun is in the planning. How should we spend this day together? There are walks and hikes to take, movies to watch, a soak in the jacuzzi, and the all important trip to the Mammoth thrift stores. (Most of us share an addiction to thrift store shopping. Those that don't enjoy this annual binge.) Even grocery shopping is a treat. We break up into meal teams and wander the aisles of Vons, selecting ingredients for warm vegetarian chili, smoked salmon and fresh berries for breakfast, tasty cheeses for happy hour. 

On our first Mammoth trip we were treated to an early snow storm. We rented snow shoes from an incredibly handsome and very young man we named "Jake." Though we were old enough to be Jake's mothers, we enjoyed many a delicious fantasy about him for the remainder of the weekend, laughing when one of us suggested we ask him if he'd ever seen the movie, The Graduate.

Mammoth is quiet in October. The throngs of skiers have yet to ascend the mountain. We quickly fell in love with snow shoeing, enjoying having the mountain virtually to ourselves. The sun sparkled on the fresh snow and every view was majestic and awe-inspiring. Of course when six women are doing anything together, there is rarely a moment of silence. But on this walk I demanded we take one. We spread out, each of us finding a rock or log to sit on, and we did not talk for 15 glorious minutes. I felt the silence envelope me like a soft, down comforter. There is nothing quite like the silence of a snow covered mountain.   For 15 minutes my mind ceased its' endless chatter and I melted into that healing embrace of silence.

We have a ritual that we share on the last night of our trip. There is a gift bag and a card for each one of us. Over the course of the weekend we write what we appreciate about each woman in her card. We all bring small gifts, six of the same thing, one for each person. And on the last night we take turns slipping our gifts into the bags before gathering together to open these gifts and read the precious words each woman has written about us. There are shouts of delight as we open hand-made earrings and bracelets, delicious smelling coconut oil to soften our skin, CDs with thoughtfully chosen favorite songs, prayer flags and poetry. 

I am blessed to have these women in my life. And I am further blessed because they are not the only women I walk through my days with. There are the women in my book club who nourish me every month with their company. Perhaps we don't spend a whole lot of time discussing the book, but that's not what I'm there for. I come for the company of these amazing women. There are the women I make music with, blending harmonies and inspiring each other to create and sing, to risk. There are the old friends who have known me forever, some since I was fourteen. They're the ones who've seen me through bad boyfriends, multiple hair colors, drunken adventures (and misadventures). They keep me honest! And there are the brand new friends I keep on meeting, each bearing her own unique gift.

There is not a minivan big enough to hold all of these amazing women. But every day I am grateful to be traveling through life in their company. They are my life raft, my inspiration, my confidantes, the ones I can let my hair down with, knowing they will love me no matter what. Wow! I am the luckiest woman in the world!