I ski in jeans. There, I said it. And I’ve been doing it for years — as far back as I can remember. Ever since I was a child, when the snowflakes started to drift down from the heavens, I hit the slopes. And this past week, the pickins’ were ripe in Western North Carolina.

My first time was in a navy blue 1991 Toyota Camry.

My first time hearing The Beatles, that is. Like the first time you kissed a loved one, that initial introduction to the Fab Four stopped you in your tracks, where time itself seemed to slow down, and all was clear and right in the world, at least for that moment in your existence.

Zach Haney looks at obstacles as opportunities.

“I wasn’t even supposed to walk, but here I am,” he said. 

Guitarist for the Joe Lasher Jr. band, Haney is a 21-year-old Canton native. Born with cerebral palsy, he’s turned whatever adversities he faced into a promising career in music.

What does the “K” stand for?

“It stands for Kavanagh,” I told the lady behind the counter. “My mother’s maiden name, now my middle name.”

The end is near.

On Feb. 5, I’ll turn 29 years old — the last official birthday of my young adulthood. I’ve always subscribed to the adage “you’re only as old as you feel,” and though I’ve never been one to really care about age, this damn number seems to stick out to me like some neon sign on the horizon. 

If Keith Richards had been born below the Mason-Dixon Line, his name might have been Mike Cooley.

Hailing from the Green Mountains of Burlington, Vt., The DuPont Brothers have emerged as a breath of fresh air in an often stifling, suffocating music industry. 

The real deal is hitting the airwaves.

Blasting out of the backwoods of Robbinsville, My Highway is a crossroads for country, rock-n-roll and mountain music. Led by Josh Beasley and Josh Lane, the quintet has been making names for itself around Western North Carolina and beyond. Performing a variety of original and cover material, the band keeps one foot firmly planted in Appalachia, one stretching to the bright lights of Nashville.

Every Jan. 1, a clean slate arrives. It’s a chance to start over, to push into exciting pursuits where curiosity roams free. The past year is already in the history books. Everyone has returned to square one — a level playing field where the possibilities are endless.

Who in the hell is that?

Standing on the porch at Camp Hope in Bethel, I found myself in amazement of the sound echoing from the nearby pavilion. It was the inaugural Shining Rock Riverfest this past September. The voice was that of Indigo Blue Desouza.