Why Can’t The Ski Day Start Later?

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

I should be kissing cotton- like an hour ago. Not only would it be good for my health but it would be awesome for my ski day. A full 7 hours’ sleep AND the ability to get up at 7 a.m. for first tram? Now, that would be cool. For me, it’s more like 5 hours of sleep and out of bed at 9:30 a.m.
There was a day last week that I got to Snowbird at 3:15 p.m. Yup, while everyone else was heading down the canyon, I was zipping up. Parked, booted up and got two memorable tram rides to close out the day. It had been snowing all day and FB updates rolled in about how deep it was. I couldn’t leave home any sooner than 2:30 p.m. but I couldn’t let the day pass without at least making one run. No regrets. That’s my biggest mantra. Do everything you can so you don’t look back to wonder ‘what if’. I can honestly say that I don’t regret any of the choices I have made in my life. Not driving all the way over to Little Cottonwood Canyon at the end of the day and not even dating the toxic, emotional vampires in the male lifeform.
Ok, I’ll admit that I do regret staying with said nemeses past their expiration dates but, hey, the flipside is that I don’t wonder ‘what if’ I had just worked harder? I gave each relationship my all. So there. With Ryan it’s different. It’s easy. Hope he feels the same. We spent two hours in my tub last night just talking. Candlelight, jets, bathsalts and a bottle of Two Buck Chuck. Ah the romance. The perfect end to the perfect powder day.
The Collins lot was packed but not the mazes. The angry winds threatened to blow us home. Should we? We wondered. Would it really be all that after everyone else had been skiing for the past two hours. It was 11 a.m. I called Alta from the car. “It’s died down a lot from this morning,” Matt said. All lifts running, fresh snow, what the hell? We beelined from Collins to Supreme which had been closed the day before when a electrical transformer blew.
Seven laps; laying down 11s you could spot from the chair after each run. We hiked Catherine’s, did two in Spiney’s, I even launched a little 5-footer off this rock into a puff of waist-deep. Surprised Ryan. Something just got in me to take the air. It was soft and joyous. By day’s end the sun came out. Despite coating my face with Real Earth SPF 30 sunscreen, I cooked. Ryan, who had borrowed the sunscreen, also looked like a tomato. My first clue should have been the thin layer of white that never absorbed into his skin. The tube went immediately into the trash when I got home. My Smart Girls Who Surf After Lotion helped tons. Sunburn aside, the day was needed.
A powder day is always needed. Sage off with the sitter, just Ryan and me. Ending the day with the ultimate body buzz from the stress of your muscles firing with every neuron. I’m so digging my Head Jimi’s. I didn’t know if I could get used to a rockered ski but hoo boy I sure can. They scare me a bit. They are a breeze to turn from the tails (the backseat) and I don’t want to be that skier. I want to ski centered, ankles and knees flexed, working from my core not my quads. It’s no wonder these kinds of skis are so popular. You don’t have to have the same skills you do on a traditional/non-rocker ski. It’s almost cheating. The rocker tip and tail make the ski short and easy to spin-especially through the trees. Still, it’ll be a Jimi day again tomorrow.
Another thing I’m psyched on is my Pistil Andina belt. I had to beg the company to send it to me. It won’t be in stores until summer. I wanted it because it looked so cool. I had no idea that it would be the ideal ski belt. Made of some kind of cotton knit, it’s soft, supple and pretty. No more droopy newschool skater pants! The only metal anywhere is the belt buckle but the distressed silver is a smooth concave oval that hugs your belly without jabbing it- even when your knees jerk up into your chest when you hit a mogul. Love the crocheted pattern of flowers and leaves in pastel and earth tones. The colors match just about everything in my ski closet.
I’m pooped finally. 1 a.m. with the alarm set for 7 to see how much snow has fallen on Alta and the Bird. I get to go to sleep with visions of snowflakes dancing in my head. Sweet dreams for you too!

Facebooktwitterredditpinterestlinkedintumblrmail

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *