Dylan paints his masterpiece at Deer Valley
I’m in Park City standing in a line that’s nearly one-third of a mile from the entrance to Deer Valley Resort. I’m in a T-shirt and flip-flops, and I realize that this is pretty poor planning when the rain begins to pour. Before long my friends Jack, Jennie, Errin, Vegor and I are all soaked. The thunder tears in the sky like a giant paper bag shredding and rumbles the ground under our feet. There’s no obvious reason to be standing here.