You all need a stay at Camp Kwitcherbitchin. There are still four
months to go, damnit! I gather that it's the worst start to an eastern
season in years, but so what? I've seen long, dismal stretches turn
around on a dime, only to be left limping on the sidelines to watch
you all frolic in a paradise lost on me. So I'm playing my invisible
little violin for you now, because I know you'll be whistling
zippity-do-da before the season ends.

Yeah, it's hard in the here-and-now when listers are getting epic days
in CA and the Wasatchers are getting pounded. I know I've sent out
some CO teasers too, but it really isn't all that spectacular. It's
been slightly below average in my neck of the woods, actually.

And this average snowfall isn't much different than that of northern
VT. Would you whine about that when 8 hours to your left, they've got
300 inches so far? Not me. There are nearby mountains with snow and I
can go skiing. I like what I've got. There are mountains and snow in
your usual haunts, right? So shut up and ski.

And don't mind my announcement that right now, the backyard range is chest-deep:


So that's my point. It's a matter of perspective. I haven't needed a
snorkel, but the last few days have been just fine by me. Dave came by
on Tuesday and he got to sample the "ski to the door, then drink"

Our half full coffee mugs were left behind in favor of falling flakes.
They added up to a nice new layer, covering the salt & sand that used
to slow down skinning up the road.

An easy hour later brought us to the Heart-Shaped Box. But it was
different this time, as always. Hard, wind-blasted snow ruled the bowl
that day. After a bit of scratching, we found a fold into a shallow
gully holding some silk.

It brought us to a place to put skins back on and go for a different
mountain. Through some trees this time. Shelter from the wind and
sideways-blowing snow.

There isn't a ten-foot-deep blanket, but it's inviting, is it not?
There's no place like home – wherever that is.

With our backs to our previous run, we broke out of those glades and
back into the snow-globe.

It was cool for a while, but winter winds have teeth up there.

Back into the shadows.

Which went by in a distorted haze.

Until we hit the road, the door, and inside, booze.

So it ain't the best skiing in the country right now, but smile, at
least you _can_ ski!

Yesterday was just fine and dandy, too. Good enough. With a time
constraint, Winter and I hiked and skied 1,500 vertical feet, then had
breakfast; all in under 90 minutes. We were back in those trees, and
she mucked up my marks from the beginning instead of making eights:

I guess tracing tracks is easier when you're only two feet tall. Like
I said, it's all a matter of perspective. Don't be losing yours.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
SkiVt-L is brought to you by the University of Vermont.

To unsubscribe, visit