Alta, my love

I can only think of a few things that I could do every day and not tire of (at least for a very long time) and skiing is at the top of that list.  I have never done anything quite as fun as cruising down snowy slopes on a sunny day or bouncing through powder after a new snowfall.  I love that skiing was a family affair growing up and we still ski all together at least a few times each season.  My dad is still one of the best skiers I have ever seen and my mom is way better than she realizes; she hates when we end up in the steep, powdery chutes, but she still tears it up :).  And my siblings all rock.  I love them so much.  And, as I mentioned in a previous post, things just keep getting better now that I am skiing with this kid:

Saturday was a fabulous ski day.  We woke up super early and were on the road just after 7:00 because we knew the traffic could be ridiculous.  I am glad we did, because the canyon was closed so we beat the lineup, and also because we were then the fifth chair up Wildcat when the lifts opened!  I love Wildcat.  It's just a dinky two chair lift that everyone ignores because there is only one measly groomer coming off of it, but it never has any lines and it almost guaranteed to have the best snow.  It's not quite as steep as a lot of the other areas of the mountain, which is a pity, but the copious amounts of powder make up for it.  And Saturday made up for the sad season we have had so far by substantially upping my face shot count.  Sometimes, on days like Saturday, I am so happy that I find random shrieks and giggles and other immature guttural noises coming unchecked from my vocal chords.  It's kind of a problem, actually.  But here are a couple of videos from Saturday's ski day to give you a little glimpse of my idea of heaven:

Please ignore the fact that I almost fall over twice and my pole goes shooting in some random direction.  But look at that powder!  Did you notice how it flies up by the camera when Will comes by?  And how light it is? And how the trees are covered in snow, and how there is not another person in sight?  Oh, nirvana.

One of my biggest weaknesses with skiing is that I can tackle any ski slope, until said slope involves a cliff or a drop.  Then, I look like an eight year old beginner all over again.  I love skiing, but I love my skis to stay ON the snow.  It's a problem that has really held me back from feeling like I've conquered the mountain.  That's one thing I've always envied when I've skied with Jocelyn, she is much more daring than me when it comes to jumps and cliffs.  So my goal for this season was to slowly but surely work on overcoming that fear.  Well, I haven't done too well at that goal, and I still suck at it, as evidenced in the following video.  Jake is first and is the example of what to do, and then I am the one that looks like a fool:

Now, let me first say that this was my second time dropping this "cliff" (if you can even call it that), and the first time around (I didn't land it, of course, as I have never landed a cliff in my life) I somersaulted my landing with painless ease that left me with a serious adrenaline rush and no bodily harm.  So I was really excited to try the jump again and lean back just a tiny bit more so that I wouldn't somersault forward.  Yeah right.  I should have known that I was pushing my luck to ski away unscathed from one jump, let alone two.  I obviously way over compensated on the leaning-back idea.  And let me tell you, this one HURT.  Maybe it is obvious by the way my body ricochets off the ground, but I got some serious whip lash and I have spent the last few days with a stiff neck and mooching back massages off my family.  I guess I'll just have to give up my wild ways, until next season when I forget the inevitable pain involved with trying to be hardcore and give it another shot, and then will hurt myself and repeat this whole cycle.

Until then, shred the gnar.