Sunday morning was spent sleeping in after our long expedition up and down
Timber Ridge and countless hours of speed testing.  Testing of that nature
can be particularly grueling especially when conducted for hours on end
with no break, yet forcing oneself to maintain high standards of
precision, nonetheless.

A Monadnock trip was ruled out because Jerm's fiancee was feeling under
the weather and I had a sneaking suspicion that conditions in the Bible
Belt would be worse.  I decided to head back to Vermont and either ski
Bolton or poach Stowe.

The ride North was phun.  Just North of Ascutney a red Jeep Cherokee blew
past me at 80 mph (to think we had been skiing almost that fast!).
Connecticut plates.  A perfect "spotter."  Immediately I jumped in his/her
wake staying 10-20 lengths behind.  The nice person carried me all the way
to Bolton averaging 80-85 mph and we only saw one cop.

Up at Bolton I ran into Joey Tuck's kids and wife and a couple fellow
members of Team Gnarl.  On my way up the lower lift I saw a GS that was
set and recognized the coach at the bottom.  When I asked if I could take a
few runs he said, "Sure."  At the top of the lift I spotted fellow Men's
Master's Coach--on a snowboard.  He took a couple warm-ups while I ran
gates.  We ran into another Men's Master, John D.,and he too was on a
snowboard.  (It was John D.'s 3rd or 4th day snowboarding and he was
already riding Preacher, a black diamond, and moguls, etc.  His line:
"Boy, is this easy."--and then he chuckled despite being dead serious.)
John D. told us that another Men's Master's would be showing up, sure
enough, a couple minutes later we ran into John H., who was on teles.
While they took a couple runs on the upper mountain, I switched from
bondage to pins.  By the time I reached the base of the upper lift the
snow squall had hit.  The runs were sweet for the rest of the day--4-5" of
powder.  Skied some short but steep shots off of the Wildernss chai, not
much crust, only deep, light, untracked and deep pow.  (On one run I ran
into a fellow doing some forest fire prevention.  I said thanks, and he
scowled, gave me a nasty look and muttered threats under his breath.)
There could be some really terrific short lines at Bolton, but they need a
LOT of work.

The lift closed waaaaay to soon, 4 pm, so the Men's Master's parted ways
after an enjoyable impromptu Sunday afternoon retreat.  Day #43.

--Matt K.

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