so I got up at 6am to go skiing today, totally stoked because I was bringing up the camera, ready to get some good footage of some nice cliff drops. we get up there, and it's clouded over like nothing else, but the light isn't TOO flat, so i figure with some editing in photoshop afterwards, some pictures should be salvagable. Then we get up there. The snow was quite litterally, completely bulletproof. absolutely HORRIBLE. we dropped into one of our favorite runs, nice one with a few good cliff drops, and one of the guys guinea pigs it. The landing didn't give, at all. He dropped off a 15 foot cliff, he's about 200 pounds, and there wasn't even the SLIGHTEST fu*king dent in the snow. needless to say, after such a brutal landing he lost it, and somehoe managed to fall and stop without tomohawking down the hill and breaking his neck. So we moved into the park, thinking a groomed run would have softer landings. NO. it was litterally like skiing on concrete, the courdoroy texture of the groomed snow really mimicked concrete nicely when it ices over so much. different guy hits a jump, and the landing was just rediculously brutal, absolutely fuc*ing brutal. Now, soemtimes you can get good photos if the snow is sh*t like this if the background and angle is right, but the light sucked ass, the landings were too hard to really huck anything, so the entire day was a bust. we stayed around, hoping against all odds the sun would make an appearance and soften up the snow, but no dice. it stayed sh*tty. so we headed back home, sooo disapointing. The only redeeming part of the day was stopping in the pub in town on the way back to the city, and driving down the highway at about a buck 40, and leaning out of the window (actually sitting on top of the ledge) to take pictures. I got some funny looks.
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What you've done becomes the judge of what you're going to do -- especially in other people's minds. When you're traveling, you are what you are right there and then. People don't have your past to hold against you. No yesterdays on the road.
William Least Heat Moon, Blue Highways
Your toughest competitor lives in your head. Some days his name is fear, or pain, or gravity. Stomp his ass.
HOOKED ON THE WHITE POWDER
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