When the dog days of August bite, I simply remember my favorite things --
The first chairlift ride up the mountain...
Skiing in a snowstorm...
Figuring out how to ski in weird snow conditions
Being willing to ski in weird snow/weather conditions
Being prepared to ski in any conditions
Watching a family cheer on their little tike the first time they run NASTAR (especially when they go on the wrong side of the gate and the timer gives them a time anyway ). They are now "hooked".
Seeing three or four generations on the hill together.
Watching the expression on a never ever's face when they glide the first time.
Getting someone through their fear and having them put it behind them.
When your grandson asks for one more run before going in for lunch
And the best ever -
Having your HS daughter ask you for some coaching on her racing at the race, tell her two things and her next run is significantly faster because she listened and she actually thanks you in FRONT of her friends!
Put that one in your pocket and keep it. That's priceless.
Heading to the mountains, beach, or campground with or without family and friends. I always love the drive there.
Watching my kids get better at the things they love to do.
Coming home, putting gear away, and finally sitting down to look at the photos.
That time in the evening when the kids have settled down, Mrs crgildart and I can enjoy some quiet time.
Ripping arc to arc on perfect carving snow (gotta have a smidgen of ice) on a cold, sunny weekday (no crowds), blower pow (you know the type) on a cold, sunny weekday (no crowds), a cold pitcher of Pulaski Porter shared with good friends after we're done skiing, and as stated above, prying my boots off!!
I get it. Even my wife did.
My daughter; good kid she is, came clean. My wife told me the following day (I'm not supposed to know) she said "I don't get it. How does he always know what to do?"
All I told her was to go slower in the steeps and no push it until she wouldn't have to brake. Same thing Jackie Stewart said on "Top Gear" - Don't accelerate coming up to a turn until you don't have to brake. She tends to ride the ski and not drive it. She was going too fast in the steeps and scrubbing all her speed before the flats - in a slalom course. All she had to do was dial it back in the steeps and maintain her speed in the flats. Gained 4 seconds.
This one is definitely a cherished memory.
I'm also not supposed to know that she is excited about racing this year. I ordered her a race suit that she "wants" to wear. Thank you SRD. She had cursed off race suits as the devils work. Now she knows the only reason her arch nemesis is beating her, is because she's in a race suit and my daughter wasn't. The one she's getting was inspired by the Ramones. As soon as she heard that, she wanted it!
Life is good,
I don't know man, sometimes Elvin reminds me of an unstoppable cartwheeling fall down some serious steeps =)
To answer the thread: I don't know man, I kinda like the weather so hot that clothes don't quite feel right. I quite enjoy doing a bit of hard labor in the blistering sun, feeling the sweat run off of my skin. Surely, it doesn't offer the pure outrageous joy of leaving my signature in a field of pristine powder, but it's good and honest and my life would be the lesser without it.
To answer the intent of the thread: One of my favorite things is when a little bit of new snow, maybe four inches, transforms that medium tight, fairly steep bump line from one that's a major accomplishment to hold the zipper for more than a half a dozen turns to a top to bottom smooth, slithery shot. Wooooooohoooooooooooo!!!
....or.... driving up a pass in a snowstorm. The sound of tires on pavement long gone, replaced by the shwffffshshshwfff of snow brushing the undercarriage and the occasional whumph of blasting through a drift, momentary whiteout quickly followed by the cold white curtain rising quickly over the windshield. On with the show!
.....or.... being the first one in the freshly plowed C lot. There is no better place, afaic, to enjoy breakfast. Gazing at the bumps that spill down to the runout. They were obviously carved out by hundreds of skilled skiers but early in the morn when it's just me and the occasional patroller skating by those cascading ribbons of anti-groom, it feels like my own private playground.
Football and preseason.
Picking blackberries is season.
The leaves changing and the first bird migrations.
Termination dust on the distant peaks.
A coat feeling good in the morning.
Snowmaking in Colorado for the race to be first open.
WROD and first days.
Cold smoke, or groomer days.
Repeat! (it truly is all good)