Hello and welcome to...sigh...an altitude problem. Havent got the time to post much these days (okay, not saying never, maybe tonight after Andy and I get back from headlamping through dark forests on skis), but for anyone wondering if the altitude can actually be a problem, and why it is that I can lock my keys in my car twice in the space of four days in the most hectic time of the year, and why it is that at least twice a year I try to board the ski lift without my ski pass, and at least once a year, without my snowboard or skis... this article might help explain it. A bit scary, actually. Maybe the slow speech and absent-minded air that seems so common to the ski bums up here can be attributed less to mind-altering substances and more to too-fast ascents.

Are the Mountains Killing Your Brain?

Although the article points out the only documentation has been in amateur mountaineers going at least above 15,000 feet, it is not much of a stretch to think it could apply to our peaks in the lower 48.

Up in the nine-seven-oh, we are happy that the shortest day of the year is past and we are on our way to summer. This month has been a cold one, evil cold, and the fact that the days are so short isn't helping. Three more days left in this year. We can't wait until we are able to do such things as drive without slamming on our brakes because a pedestrian just stepped off the curb without so much as a glance at us, make a left hand turn without having someone lay on their horn because, even though we waited rediculously long for that hole in traffic, someone still thought we cut it a bit tight, and actually take the time to do all the things we claim to do before each check in, such as check the cleanliness of a condo and change burnt out light bulbs. And if it would warm up a bit, we could stop getting the calls from the guests from Georgia who left their garage door open all night, froze and burst all their water pipes, and now can't take their morning showers, and are downright ticked off about it. And lie to our faces, and act perfectly puzzled about how it could freeze up so solid when the garage was only open for a half hour, lest we get the idea that they will be paying the thousand dollar service charges to get them running water again.

We are a bit exhausted. I went to bed at 9:30 last night, and pretty much died until 7:30, and all I can think about right now, at 5:52 this evening, is when I can crawl back between those sheets. I have done nothing but run down hallways and drive like a maniac and mumble under my breath at housekeepers and smile brightly at guests and inquire how their vacation is going and how I might make it better, then resume mumbling as soon as they are out of earshot. I have climbed hundreds of staircases a step at a time, and hopped back down them with my right leg, and now my right calf has, I swear, a bigger muscle than my left. And it is killing me. It is so sore from doing the work of two legs for miles of panicked hop-running, carrying a heavy messenger bag filled with batteries, extra remotes, everything I might need to ready a condo for guests arriving any minute, that it is by now vying with my right knee for the title of "Most painful body part". Actually, my right knee can hit 90 degrees by now if not under weight, still not enough to be able to do it's job going down stairs, but enough to get me up them and allow me to do a stiff-legged run-hop down hallways and icy driveways and walkways and all the other ways I traverse in a peak season day. And the beauty of cross-country skiing is that it never requires me to bend my knee more than a few degrees, except in a fall, so I can shuffle along nicely and carefully and make sure to keep my feet under me while Andy races in circles and rolls in the snow and runs off all the energy he has been saving up while sleeping in the Subie's backseat for the last eight hours.

So, faithful few, until later. We are out, trying to let the moonlight and an insanely happy dog calm our nerves while we shrink our world to just what can be seen in a circle of light from our new Black Diamond headlamp, and forgetting all the rest of it.