It happens every year. I ski MRG for the first time of the season, and get
humbled. Last weekend was no exception.

On Sunday at MRG, in a powder crazed frenzy, I geeked my ankle on a stump
hidden in the pow. As I lay in the snow, I visualized sitting out this
powderific season while you all blast and rip it up. Happily, I didn't need a
ride down in a sled, and my ankle felt OK enough to try a night mission last

And what a night!  Cold, about 0 degrees, but clear starry skies and no wind
to speak of. We had an expanded crew, a total of six gomers, including our
first night snowboarder. Three trucks four-wheeled it up, and we set off to
test the pow by headlamp. First off, if you haven't made a run in northern
Vermont in the last week, get up here and ski. Conditions you ask? Well let
us say they were "epic mid-winter powder." What else can one say? If I have
to explain, then you wouldn't understand!

My ankle felt great on the climb, but I didn't push my luck, and just hung
with Andy, who was struggling on snowshoes and a board on his back. He would
do fine on the hard-pac lower sections, but as we climbed and the snow was
less consolidated, he would post-hole. Too small shoes, too big a guy. TEO,
Kris and Scott played their own game of hero up ahead, once and a while
stopping for us to get in sight, then racing off again. The trail was a mess,
as the snow plastered to the trees had all the birches bent over into the
trail...kind of reminded me of the ice storm.

The run down through the woods was powder choked madness. I skied like %$#,
as my ankle had a hard time pressuring the ski. TEO was the hero on his
fattie skis, dicing it up in the faces of his older, more mature friends.
Insolent PUNK! I got a few seconds of video I will give to Wes later. We
blasted down the new lines on the lower, made it to the trucks and drank a
few frozen reebs in minus temps. What fun!

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