Hello and welcome to An Altitude Problem, where we sit watching the X-games, cheering for Breck local Bobby Brown and my fellow Diva Annie's son, Zack Black. There are about seven local athletes competing in Aspen this week, giving us seven different reasons to keep ourselves stuck to the couch.
The weeks since the last post have been filled with a lot of working, some skiing, some eating and some sleeping, filled with dreams of skiing and one night, a nightmare about having stolen a pair of skis I had been coveting when they came through the ski shop. They were another pair just like B's skis. The truth is, I covet B's skis. They are fat and the tails are soft and they have excellent pop off jumps and are forgiving when you land off-balance. Mine, which were cheaper and the only thing still available when I was finally eligible for a pro deal, are fat enough to keep me afloat, but the tails are stiff and pitch me forward when I land wrong. They are stable carvers, stiff and predictable, a perfect ski for all on-mountain conditions except park and cliff-hucking. In the backcountry, they are also great skis, except they do not forgive easily.
B and I got a day off yesterday, and we spent it up on Vail Pass, carving turns in snow that was anywhere from a foot to three feet deep. We found some big rocks to ski off of, the landings a bit tracked out because it has been several days since the last snow, but we still went for it. (the picture at the top of this post is of me, at that point of no return, when the only thought going through my head is if this will be the last thought to go through my head.) I landed two, and buried my ski tips under some crust on the third, sending me over the handlebars and making me dig for the ski I lost a foot under the snow in the crash. It was a wonderful day, snowing lightly, spotty sunshine, pillowy turns. Now all we want is to do it again. But instead, we work, traffic pouring into the county. We are close to 100% booked again this weekend.
And that is about it, my faithful few. We work, and we scheme about spending the month of May on the road, chasing dry trails, or in Maui, or somewhere that is warm after we are sick of the snow. And then we sleep so we can do it all over again.
