Sarah Haas, Peak to Peak.   Nearing the end of our interview, Andréa Bianchi and I head to the skate park to snap a picture or two. Immediately I’m on my butt, sliding cautiously down the slick skateboarding walls, when I look up to see her monkey-climbing the steepest part of the park, aka, “the Death Star.”

Silhouetted by the sun she looks extra vibrant; red sunglasses, bright green shirt, frizzled hair and twinkly eyes — it’s not just her look but her antics that remind me of a modern-day Ms. Frizzle from The Magic School Bus. For those of you who don’t remember, Miss Frizzle is the illustrated school teacher famed for embodying her subject du jour. Whether she took kids on a trip through the solar system or inside the human body, her enthusiasm was literally worn on her clothes by way of pink space suits and white blood cell earrings.

Miss Frizzle may not be real, but Andréa sure is, and she’s right here in Nederland, Colorado, where you’re likely to spot her wearing a gold tutu and saying super cool things that 33-year-old adults aren’t supposed to even understand, like, “hyphy,” as in, “they were getting hyphy in the club on Saturday night.” Or, “I have the same birthday as T. Swift, no big deal.” To which I replied, “oh yeah, well I have the same birthday as Abraham Lincoln.”

“Who?” She says, jokingly, before launching into raucous laughter.

Normally, it’s only our town’s teenagers who get to see her magic ability to live with such inherent wonderment at the world. Well, them and her boyfriend, Arthur, to whom she frequently comes running toward with glee whenever a new wildflower pops up near their Coal Creek home.

“Arthur! Did you see! There are three pink poppies outside! Who knew they could bloom this late in the year??!”

Last weekend, 300 area runners got to see her in action too, during the Teens, Inc. sponsored Ned*Ned race where she worked water station number 2. She was the one dressed head to toe in gold, standing next to Waldo (aka Torin), with her feet in a kiddie pool that her mom donated to the race for hot doggies running alongside their human friends. Surprise surprise, the costumed duo won the fan vote for “best aid station.”

“I didn’t realize it was actually a competition,” Andréa says, “but I love talking smack, so I did and now I’m glad I did because I won.”

With such a youthful attitude it’s no surprise Andréa has made it 10 years as a Teens, Inc. employee. When she first started, she was an AmeriCorp worker stationed in Denver, but was looking for a more rural experience in a mountain town like Nederland. She describes her interview like love at first sight, saying, “I knew right away this was the only place I wanted to be, both the town and Teens, Inc. were so casual, yet full of life.” Nederland had a way of making her feel at home.

Andréa is from Larkspur, a front range town that’s like Nederland in that it’s close to a bunch of places but feels like it’s all alone in the middle of nowhere. Just off I-25, Larkspur is home to the annual Colorado Renaissance Festival, which draws 250,000 people to town every July. So, it could be said that she knows what it’s like to grow up in a seasonal tourist town.

She gets what it’s like to come of age in a place where everyone knows you.

She gets the void left by a lack of extra-curricular activities in town. She gets that it can feel isolating to live in a place like, say, Ward or mid-Gilpin where, without a car or a job, one has to rely on school busses or hitched rides just to get out of the house. She also gets what it’s like to rebel rouse a little bit, to get into, as she says, “cheeky shenanigans,” if for no other reason than to fill the time and, while she doesn’t condone breaking the rules, she thinks a little rebellion isn’t just normal, but good.

“There’s a lot of tough stuff to deal with as a teen up here, but I gotta say, the young people here are super creative and very resilient which I think is beautiful,” she says. “I am so proud to be a part of an organization that is able to provide some resources to fill in the gaps and that aims to create really genuine connections with our community.”

Given how easily she relates to these kids, and how much her inner child shines, I ask what the difference is between being a teenager and an adult who’s all grown up. She hems and haws for a bit, “it’s a tough question,” she says, buying a little time.

“To be honest I have no idea. Maybe it’s an issue of maturity? Of being reflective of your past, aware of the present, and taking thoughtful steps for the future? But gosh, I still don’t really do that so maybe that’s not it at all.”

It isn’t until later when I see her climbing up to the “Death Star” that we’re both struck with the simultaneous epiphany that maybe, just maybe, the only difference between a kid and an adult is that a kid climbs right up to the top without hesitation while an adult pauses, studies the risks and decides against it, too afraid to fall. Which leaves us both wondering where we each fall on the spectrum, now that she’s standing on top of the hill and I’m shoeless and laughing at the bottom of a bowl.

Either way she raises her arms above her head and lets out a brilliant yelp.

A weekly column about locals living along the Peak-to-Peak. To suggest someone for a profile please email Sarah at mountainfolktales@gmail.com.

(Originally published in the September 20, 2018, print edition of The Mountain-Ear.)