Admissions

This morning I got my bones out of bed bright and early to get some exercise on Mont Ripley. 5:30 the alarm shouted at me, and I was in disbelief that it was actually going off. Needless to say, I rustled myself out of bed after a few licks in the face from the dog (he knew what was up). It was time to earn some turns!

I struggled into the basement after throwing on a few layers, checked the outdoor thermometer and about went back to bed. -10 degrees! But heck, I was already up. I threw some wood on the fire (and cranked it up), and finished the dressing process. By this time the dog was so excited he was doing back flips………….I pretty much had to go now.

I grabbed the fattest skis I owned, as we had surpassed a foot of snow in 24 hours and I knew the flotation would help me not choke on snow.

My journey up the hill was relatively short, as I was hustling to keep myself warm. I got to the top of a dead calm peak and remembered exactly why I do this regularly. It was beautiful and I had long forgotten how cold it was. I even snapped a few pics (only one of which turned out even remotely good).

The ski down was good. Not great, but good. I almost clipped the dog, which would have been really bad. But as soon as I got some speed that feeling hit me. That feeling of weightlessness and true peace. It was just me, the snow, and a couple of skis (and lots of clothes to keep me warm). I even had a few opportunities to enter what we skiers call the “white room”. The white room is a very hard place to describe, but once you’ve been there you’ll want to go back, I can promise you that.

I hope that happens again soon, I really do.