Showing posts from January, 2013

BackYard Backcountry: A Much Needed Escape into the Killington Woods

The town has been crawling with people.
Skiers & Snowboarders have been flocking to Killington,
eager to enjoy the amazingly favorable weather we've been having.

Don't get me wrong.
We've been enjoying it, too.
And the business that comes with.
But sometimes, you need a break.

To pull back from the craziness of life on the Access Road.
A Return to the Simpler things in Life.
A Return to Nature.
A Rejuvination.
So one night after work at the shop,
we packed up the sled,
Strapped on our snowshoes...
and headed out the back door.

And found ourselves deep in the
Calvin Coolidge State Forest

As the suns set,
we flicked on our headlamps
and enjoyed what has horrified so many off the backside lately:
the Vermont woods at night
The air is so still,
the forest so silent.
We saw footprints, but would hear and see no animals.
All we could hear was the light floof of our snowshoes in the fresh snow.

The ridgeline,
normally so visible in the daylight hours
quickly vanished.
We …

The Struggle for Seventy: Pushing through the Holiday Season at Killington

I will be the first to admit it.
I am exhausted.
On January 2nd, I hit 60 days for the season.
It is now January 13th and i am still struggling to hit seventy days.
The alarm clock beeps at 5:45am and I groan.

Taking a deep breathe in, i let the memories of the previous day overtake me.
Eight hours of work in the shop.
followed immediately by 6 hours behind the bar.

Do I really want to go skiing today?
Another Deep Breathe...
Because I cannot believe that thought has even crossed my mind.
But the thought has.
and I can't shake it.

I begin to wonder if I
even have the energy
to stand up for yet another
14 hour work day.

After spending 90 minutes
skinning up the mountain.
I take another deep breathe,
a tear rolls down my face.

And I succomb to my exhaustion.
And so I work.
All Day.
and then
All Night.

I smile as I talk about how awesome the skiing,
because I know it must have been.
I can look outside my window and imagine
how glorious the snow must be as it bakes in the sunshine.
I scroll through …

The Internal Powday Clock: A Ski Bum Connection with the Snow

It's 9:30 at night.
I have no trouble passing out.
Thanks to my bedtime glass of Whistlepig and the constant pre-dawn wake-up calls, my eyes close pretty much as soon as my head hits the pillow.
I move my legs so that they curl around the eleven-year old golden retreiver snuggled on top of the comforter at the bottom of the bed.
I begin to dream the skier's dream.
What feels like a full night later, I roll over and my eyes are as wide as little buttons.
I check the time on my phone.
It's bright techno blueish light blinds me like Spock checking his machines.
I blink as I make out the time.
My curtains are closed and the room is pitch black
except for the trippy little night light
that we put on so that I don't trip over my pile of long johns
scattered halfhazardly all over the floor on my side of the bed.

I can still hear
the classical music
playing lightly in the background
that we set to a 120 minute timer.

I sigh in frustration and make sure tha…