Don't wanna be a fair weathah skiah, do ya?
After listening to Spalding Gray's "It's A Slippery Slope" about 125 times over the past four years, I finally got to live it.
I drove up to Belleayre early this morning -- ignoring the weather forecast for showers -- and arrived in the midst of a light, but steady rain. I reached into the trunk of my car and took out a bright blue recycling bag, cut holes for my head and arms, and put it over my non-waterproof ski jacket. The first two hours were beyond unpleasant: pea-soup fog, rain, and snow that had become the consistency of wet, frozen sugar. All I could think of were Spalding's words, running like a tape loop through my head:
I'm skiing in a garbage bag! I'm skiing in the rain in a garbage bag! And I'm paying to do it!
But by 11 am, the rain stopped, the skies cleared up, and I found three top-to-bottom runs on the most luscious, carvable spring corn I've ever experienced.
OK, so it wasn't Alta, it wasn't Jackson Hole, and it wasn't Les Trois Vallees. It was a dinky (1,400 vertical feet) hill in the Catskills that had just lost 60% of its trails to the rain. But it was great skiing... I did lap after lap after lap on those three trails until 4 pm, without wishing for one moment that I were someplace else.
There was something extremely satisfying having to deal with dog-poop weather, and then discovering near perfect conditions. And in this less than ideal East Coast winter, you've got to take your victories wherever you can find them.
<FONT COLOR="#800080" SIZE="1">[ March 16, 2002 09:16 PM: Message edited 2 times, by jamesdeluxe ]</font>