Anticipation filled my body, from the tip of my head to the extreme bottom of my toes. The winter wonderland and holiday atmosphere still filled the quaint and immaculate little city. Glowing, twinkling lights covered every single tree as if it was being invaded by a giant army of fireflies. I, along with the rest of the town, was impatiently waiting for the Olympic torch to arrive.
Standing on Main Street with my dad and sister, I could feel the frigid air engulf my petite body as the sun disappeared behind the world, as I knew it. The torch was due to arrive in Vail at five o'clock p.m., but it was nearly seven o'clock and still no sign of it. Along with my overwhelming impatience grew even more coldness. I made a great number of trips to the mountain gear and clothing shops across the narrow, people-filled street hoping to regain my warmth. Although it was incredibly warmer inside, my anxiousness seemed to continue to attract me out into the sub-zero icebox like a firefly drawn to the light.
After waiting two of the longest hours of my life, in the far distance I could make out an unusual fiery glow moving in our direction. The thousands of people packed into the congested dreamlike town began to get antsy. With the torch growing closer and closer, it would arrive and make its début at any given moment.
Within a few minutes, the first vehicles, having precautionary yellowish orange construction type lights swirling on their tops, had made their way into town. A huge Coca-Cola truck was the first through, handing out twenty ounce plastic bottles of half frozen Coke-- not exactly what I wanted at the time, being that my hands, feet and nose were tiptoeing on an edge, almost to fall off. Not far behind was what we'd so desperately been waiting for. A Vail local was proudly walking down the street holding the brilliantly flaming, platinum stemmed torch in his right hand. He was closely followed by a monstrous, black Chevy truck, which held the ever-burning Olympic cauldron in its bed. With the arousing commotion, the town seemed to transform into an amusement park roller coaster with shouting, screaming and laughing enthusiasms. The torchbearer made his way to the following lucky "chosen one" and relayed it on. Thrilled, she continued down Main Street making her way through the mob of diverse spectators who had come from all over just to witness this amazing event. Coming to the base of Vail Mountain, she handed off the powerful gleaming flame to another Vail local who snow shoed up to the snow-blanketed peak.
Losing sight of the torch, everyone began to scatter in various directions. My dad, sister and I meandered over to Slifer Square, the common village plaza. Surrounded by overly priced luxurious hotels, extremely classy shops and elaborate restaurants, I felt we stuck out like black sheep with our well-matured jackets, hats and gloves.
It had now been almost forty-five minutes since the snowshoer bearing the torch vanished...