Skilaufen

There’s just nothing like it. Exhilaration like I’ve never experienced before, cutting and swerving to dodge trees and children (who are seemingly invincible little dare-devils; roped to their parents who are quite obviously scared shit-less). Tips flapping and shaking at the speed, jumping over lumpy patches and inconveniently placed rocks. Wishing you hadn’t spent the off-season drinking and eating so much, your fat ass is so out of shape; calves and thighs burning, howling in pain. “Too bad legs, just deal with it cuz I’m not stopping,” unless I end up hitting one of these trees…

Ignoring your mostly frozen extremities, pushing just a little harder to see how far your skills (or rather lack thereof) can take you. Plowing through powdery-white goodness down to the bottom of the run, just to do it all again and again. Your crazy friends taking you down runs you know you probably shouldn’t do; really hoping you don’t end up in a bodybag you follow them down. “How else am I going to get better?” You try to justify it.

Dreaming of that perfect blue bird day; the sun is shining, the snow is fresh and not littered with tourists who always seem to clog the best runs like SUVs clog the roads up to the hills. Always pushing, straining, learning, enjoying the lunacy and the speed of strapping two sticks to your two legs, and attacking Mother Nature’s finest. Bring it.