14 February, 2006 (Tuesday)
Valentine’s Day
(Picture: Off the mogul trail - Gem Lake)
Regardless, it was a great day for skiing. Josh and I slept in a little and got out with the Poms from 306 – Luke, Gemma and Chris. Gemma turned back after we got to Gem Lake, but the rest of us lasted the day. Conditions were excellent and I guess all four of us are more than passable these days. Luke (a keen skier) has great parallels and Chris (on the snowboard) is holding some nice jumps.
We bombed down a good number of runs before the cold sent us taking cover at Westridge, where the gals pulled faces at me and ohh-ed and ahh-ed over Chris. A Chai Latte (machine made) and a quick chat to Precious later (she was laughing at my attempts at poetry) we were back out in the cold. The wind started to pick up and it was getting hard to see with fresh snow swirling, so we headed off to the Black Forest to finish off our day.
The way back down was an adventure – we pelted through the trees, criss-crossing from run to run, hitting fresh snow stashes and the odd bump. I was just thinking that a hard day of skiing isn’t complete without a decent stack when I came through a treed run called Secret.
Coming off a lip (from memory it was about a metre or more off the ground), I just sped down. No matter how I wanted I couldn’t bleed off speed with turns due to the uneven hacked-up condition of the run and my own momentum. Just at the end, where it joins with Highway 33 (one of the main routes into the Village), I caught the front of one of my skis and cartwheeled over. The heel binding released and as I tumbled I lost my second ski and one of my poles. The return tumble had me bounce twice on my face, a solid crunch and then a nice body slide into the main run. It was pure poetry in motion. Another one for the helmet.
In the Black Forest we found Dave, with his blonde crested brimmed skiing hat and Rossignol Z5s. We did a few quick runs with him before heading home, via the park. I’ve got to work on landing those jumps. I seem to just spin out or collapse on the return to earth.(Lately I've got the bruises to prove it...)
No Valentine’s in the (snail) mail, in the email or in person. I guess they just assume around here that I’m not the Valentine type. Then again, this year I didn’t exactly go to any trouble myself. Well, beyond my attempts at poetic expression the day before.
(Picture: Off the mogul trail - Gem Lake)Regardless, it was a great day for skiing. Josh and I slept in a little and got out with the Poms from 306 – Luke, Gemma and Chris. Gemma turned back after we got to Gem Lake, but the rest of us lasted the day. Conditions were excellent and I guess all four of us are more than passable these days. Luke (a keen skier) has great parallels and Chris (on the snowboard) is holding some nice jumps.
We bombed down a good number of runs before the cold sent us taking cover at Westridge, where the gals pulled faces at me and ohh-ed and ahh-ed over Chris. A Chai Latte (machine made) and a quick chat to Precious later (she was laughing at my attempts at poetry) we were back out in the cold. The wind started to pick up and it was getting hard to see with fresh snow swirling, so we headed off to the Black Forest to finish off our day.
The way back down was an adventure – we pelted through the trees, criss-crossing from run to run, hitting fresh snow stashes and the odd bump. I was just thinking that a hard day of skiing isn’t complete without a decent stack when I came through a treed run called Secret.
Coming off a lip (from memory it was about a metre or more off the ground), I just sped down. No matter how I wanted I couldn’t bleed off speed with turns due to the uneven hacked-up condition of the run and my own momentum. Just at the end, where it joins with Highway 33 (one of the main routes into the Village), I caught the front of one of my skis and cartwheeled over. The heel binding released and as I tumbled I lost my second ski and one of my poles. The return tumble had me bounce twice on my face, a solid crunch and then a nice body slide into the main run. It was pure poetry in motion. Another one for the helmet.
In the Black Forest we found Dave, with his blonde crested brimmed skiing hat and Rossignol Z5s. We did a few quick runs with him before heading home, via the park. I’ve got to work on landing those jumps. I seem to just spin out or collapse on the return to earth.(Lately I've got the bruises to prove it...)
posted by the wastrel @ 1:45 PM
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