Monday, February 27, 2012
Heaven is a mountain after you've stopped throwing up on it
Skiing back to the lodge wasn't an option because I'd lose everybody again and wind up spending the whole day skiing alone. Which wouldn't be the worst thing, but it wouldn't be the best thing either.
And taking off my skis and hiking into the woods like you can on the mountains in Vermont wasn't an option because if you take off your skis on that deep West coast powder you will sink into the snow and disappear forever.
My options were limited. Long story short, I exposed myself. In a white world, when one has magenta pants down around ones knees, one will find it difficult to blend in and be discreet. And anyone at the top of Chair Number 5 at approximately 1:45 in the afternoon, plus a handful of folks gliding by just feet from where I balanced, with great caution and focus, bore witness to the spectacle.
I wonder if anyone of those people had also seen a similarly bright pink spectacle throwing up roadside on the approach, and if so, if anyone made the connection.
It was only my second day of skiing in Washington, my second day on steep trails in deep powder, and my second day back skiing after eleven years. But I started, very reluctantly, to get a little braver and follow my friends down some real runs. Not without great protest and a level of shrillness that I am not proud to associate myself with, but I did follow them. And I did pretty well. Andrew describes it this way:
"I suggest a trail. You say you don't want to do it. Then we drop in, and you yell at me a lot. And then you do great. Then you get to the bottom and beg to do it again."
Oh Andrew, and Chris, and all of you, I'm sorry for my neurosis. Those scars come from years of kayaking behind maniacs, of seeing my fears dismissed and then, unfortunately, materialize, all the swims and underwater caves and unrunable rapids at the bottom of vertical canyons, from all the shit that got kicked out of me on those rivers and all the water up the nose....those scars and...aahh...'trust issues', let's call them....run deep.
Or maybe I'm just a wimp.
Either way, I'm working on it.
But skiing is so much more fun than all of that. So far.
Oh, and one more thing: