Tuesday, December 8, 2015

Skiing is Skiing, No Matter How Much Snow

There's not a lot of snow, they say.
In fact, it hasn't snowed at all, they say.
There isn't that much open, they say.
The Skiing is Boring, they say.

WHAT?!
I'm Sorry, What did you say?!

The skiing is boring?
You have to be wrong!
There isn't snow everywhere ...
well let me explain with a song:

Skiing is Skiing,
no matter how much snow
We turn left and we turn right,
it doesn't matter how far we go.

Every DAY it is different
Every TRAIL its own way
Every TURN's a new challenge
Every DAY you get to play

I am having a sweet time,
my ski buddies and I,
we are laughing and skiing
and sometimes I even cry.

We make our own fun,
as we play in the snow,
we don't need steeps or powder
we can go fast or even slow.

All we need is snowmakers and lifties,
just to make everything go.
And groomers, ski patrol, & park crew
to help us play in the snow.

Skiing is Skiing,
no matter how much snow
We turn left and we turn right,
it doesn't matter how far we go.

We ride the poma, the gondi 
and the really slow chair
And on the way down,
we feel the wind in our hair.

There is no reason for stopping,
unless you can't feel your legs.
We not moping in the house,
with the doldrums and dregs.

We are the ones out skiing
and having a blast.
As long as there is some manmade
and we can go really fast

My friends and I will be on the mountain,
having a hell of a time,
We'll be laughing and screaming,
and feeling wicked fine.

Because Skiing is Skiing,
no matter how much snow.
We turn left and we turn right,
It doesn't matter how far we go.

So when you're sitting at home
complaining of the weather,
just remember you could be skiing
Floating down the mountain light as a feather.


May You Find the Spirit of the Mountains Within You,
Merisa





Friday, December 4, 2015

Dust on Crust and I'm Grinning Ear to Ear

Finally.
To wake up this morning and watch the flakes floating through the sky instead of watching heavy non-solid precipitation make puddles in the dirt.
My heart heaved a sigh of relief as I stepped outside into the flurries.
My feet were cold against the squishy ground, but there was an off chance of greatness today and I wanted to thank the earth first.
Would there be enough?
Because holy crap it has rained for like 3 days.
   Would the mountain recover?
    Could it recover?
To be firm, oh crap would it be firm.
A text from a friend confirmed the solid truth of the matter.


But the guns were on.
It had dropped 12 degrees since 7am.
And there were freshies.
Untouched Snow!
Like from the Sky and everything!

An east coast skiers dream.
The first real snowfall of the season and it's dust on crust.
That little bit of untouched snow that falls onto the eerily yellow groomer tracks magically exposed.
Finding that little pocket of built up snow as you fall off the trail, inching ever closer to the snow line in a desperate attempt to gobble up every bit of fresh snow within sight.
There are deeper spots than others, and there are firmer spots.
But I'm down.
And I'm grinning ear to ear.

And then an entire trail of yellow guns.
A pile of snowmaking awesomeness, the boys throwing down the heavy stuff because we are not going to lose this again ... damn it.
But as long as you kept the same speed as the stickiness,
skiing in slow motion, through old yellow smelly looking cream cheese.
But I'm down.
And I'm grinning ear to ear.

Dust on Crust.
Trails of Sticky Snow.
But I'm down.
And I'm grinning ear to ear.

I wouldn't miss this for anything.
It's gonna be a good season.



May You Find the Spirit of the Mountains Within You,
Merisa