Yesterday, Mike and I took a drive up to Park City for dinner. We found ourselves in the strange netherworld between summer mountain biking and winter skiing. There is no snow up there yet, but it is chilly. Much too cold for the casual mountain biker. Park City was abandoned.

We walked along the empty Main Street. Most of our favorite restaurants were closed. The few people on the street were condo vendors trying to attract rich yuppies who haven’t learned how to relax without shelling out the bucks for a pricey object. “Maybe if I owned a condo in Park City, then I would learn to relax,” they think to themselves. Unfortunately for the vendors, we were only there for some really good food. We had to settle for a pretty good calzone because our favorite restaurant was closed.

Going back to the car after our meal was spooky. The condo vendor recognized us from before and half-heartedly tried to attract us. The Alpine Internet Cafe was the sole storefront that invited us in with its warm lights. The streets were empty. We noticed the points where we had taken pictures last August, but both of us hurried to our car. The streets felt as if ghosts were the only occupants.

I’m sure the residents of Park City are wishing for snow with all their hearts right now.