mega nerd racer
Met a fellow riding the chair and noted that he and I had been doing some trips down the NASTAR course.
His dress was the first thing that caught my attention, and while I don't mean to be critical in a mean spirited way, his oddities stood out. He was a intermediate wedge turner from Virginia, a techie micro systems engineer and I would bet he was of the old slide rule on his belt and plastic pocket pen protectors "school" .. he was a happy camper off on a voyage of and unto his own drum beat. I respect him for that.
It was a warm day and his windbreaker looked like it came Sears mail order from the early 60's ... ill fitting rain pants ... and he was wearing kitchen (do the dishes) gloves like your mom wore ... intermediate skis ... black plastic (thick) glasses (very sturdy and functional) that looked like he got them from Buddy Holly.
He was a bit glum and was having trouble making a run that would get him a NASTAR pin. I explained that at that time of year (late winter/early spring), the course had gone to slush and ruts and that there was no way he was going to "pin" since the time had been set on the frozen ice that morning. We were all strugling and skating between gates ..... it was that slow.
He wanted to know another hill nearby he could try and I mentioned Camelback up the road but nope, he had been there earlier in the day and failed to get a pin. Poor guy, he was spending quite a bit of money in his stated "quest".
His goal ... to get a NASTAR pin from every ski area from Maine to West Virginia. He would drive up to an area on each Friday night and stay in that area until he got a bronze .... make run after run, till he scored that pin and then jump in his car and head for the next area .... doing as many as he could by Sunday evening and the courses closed. He mentioned that he would have to return to a bunch of NY, MA, VT and NH areas to patch in those he missed at.
Wedge turner, no race gear, no ego, no training .... just that blind drive to get those little pins from each and every area on the east coast.
He was in his own world, setting the bar where he wanted it ... following the beat of a drum of his own ..... I still look back on him with admiration.