My dad and I were getting on the lift at Mount Sunapee last week, when someone from the singles line asked if he could ride up with us. Of course we said, “Yes, please!” I love riding up with strangers and getting to hear their stories.
About halfway up, our liftmate pulled a small, red cardboard box from his pocket. Nestled inside the paper towel lining were about a dozen chocolate-covered clementine sections, clearly hand-dipped. While my dad and I munched away, he told us his story.
A retired pastry chef, he was now a full-time ski bum (it was only mid-February and he’d already logged 36 days of skiing on the season). He proudly told us that he was “a bit of a legend around the mountain”. Not surprising given his stats: 15 years of making about 100 chocolates per night, which he shares with lucky skiers (he told us he only offers his chocolates to nice people. Score!). He even let me snap his picture with my phone (click photo to enlarge):
We were about offload at the top when I asked him his name. “They call me Clem….” he said, his voice trailing away until he was gone.