No worries. I can barely move anyway. All of the skate skiing plus skiing the moguls on telemark yesterday finally caught up with me.
OW.
Stairs are proving challenging and even my triceps were not left untouched.
OW. OW OW OW OW OW.
The pain was worth it. After hauling both kids, all of their gear, plus my gear up to the base area by myself yesterday-and sweating buckets in the process- I dropped Hazel off at lessons and Tygh off at the children's museum where they have a drop in program and finally FINALLY rode the chairlift up the mountain to meet my friends.
Let's be clear. I love to ski. No matter what, I love to ski. But I really love to ski with friends. Who doesn't? Chasing friends down the mountain, hoping they will stop for a brief second so you, the lone telemarker, can catch your breath, looking over the edge your friend just dropped, swallowing your doubt and going for it because she did too- yeah, it's awesome.
Of course, Brian remains my very best ski partner of all time forever amen but when he's not available, I'll gladly take the posse.
The posse can take many forms. My favorite posse is made up of my siblings and siblings-in-law. (see: Whistler, White Pass, Mt. Hood Meadows, Summit at Snoqualmie, Mission Ridge.) In the absence of family however, the posse yesterday was pretty rad.
I grinned a lot. I may have gotten a little sunburned (in the chaos of gear and children, I totally forgot to apply sunscreen. Oops.). And I had a drink at the ice bar.
Have I mentioned that living here is amazing?
Now, go get your own ski posse- membership is fluid and casual- find you some challenging terrain and a good bar and I guarantee a good time.
I must go take some Advil now.
This has nothing to do with the ski posse. It is only evidence of a tired little boy who was snoring BEFORE I even put the keys in the ignition.
