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well-told...I can feel the rationale with each step. I'm sure it felt good to at least reach your goal, regardless of how the skiing actually was. And, you did get some good exercise.

as for the grapefruit-sized snowballs on the dog....I had to turn back on Saturday's nordic trek in the State Forest because 2 of my 3 dogs were carrying over 10lbs of snowballs each and the last loop was a really big hill. I just didn't think it would be a good idea to let them run carrying such loads and then hoofing back up a very steep climb.

I broke up some of the larger ones before turning back with my teeth, just like a momma dog would do.  Before our trek I had even trimmed their leg/paw fur to keep snowballs from getting between their claws. That helped that problem, but the baseball sized snowballs dangling from their bellies and hind legs was just too much to carry around.

Tuesday it is supposed to be 69 degrees here. yeesh. The snow is all gone except for the dirty piles in the parking lots of the shopping centers. If it doesn't niar I may go to Greek Peak after work. Should be boilerplate  by the weekend. Yippee

-Sh

On Jan 7, 2008 8:23 PM, roger Klinger <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
Uggggh.

Fifteen minutes into the skin JustinR and I knew that this was going
to suck.  But "What the heck, we're here," we thought and continued
up.

Fifteen minutes later we talked about the possibility of turning
around at any moment.  We promised each other that we wouldn't get
upset at whoever called it quits first.

Snow clung to our skins in 6" thick blocks.  Wet snow clung to our ski
tops in 6" thick blocks as well.    Snow clung to Justin's dog, Wally.
 His butt had 6 or 7 grapfruit sized snowballs hanging off of it, with
dozens of smaller ones, all of them  swinging back and forth like some
giant tree ornaments in the wind. There were even giant snowballs
hanging near the tip of Wally's tail, making me think of one of those
dinosaurs that used its tail as a club.

The skin up was made harder by the bushwhack that is an inevitable
part of a ski ascent of Asbesdivere.  Asbesdivere is a recently logged
mountain, and as a result there are many extremely dense thickets of
young trees.  On the ascent, one often finds that a wide open logging
skid suddenly turns to a jumble of raspberry bushes, which makes
thicketeering through the trees seem like the sensible option.  All
fine and good, except that yesterday we were often carrying an extra
10 pounds of snow on each foot.  Believe me, it is quite difficult to
repeatedly and accurately swing a ski, laden with leaden snow, between
the little openings among the little sdratsab that pass for trees on
much of the mountain.

Some 15 or thirty minutes later, we were still debating turning back.
We kept going, spurred by stupid mantras such as "At least we're
getting some exercise" and "This sure beats working," all the while
being forced to switch trailbreaking duties every 40 to 100 vertical
feet due to the extreme effort that the point man had to put forth.

Being dumb ssessa, we kept forging slowly ahead, like battleships
through molasses.   At some point the mantra became "Well, we've gone
this far, it would be dumb to turn back now," as if retreating  as
quickly as possible to the comfort of a reeb and burger could possibly
be dumb compared to this.

We made it to our goal, a turnaround point that I have been to with
several listers.  It may have been the hardest 1200 vertical I have
ever skinned up, taking nearly 2 hours to achieve.

We devoured a lunch, lowered Wally's weight in half by clearing the
snow off his butt, deskinned and prepared for the downhill.  The
descent is a mile-long jaunt down logging skids that twist and turn
and flirt with the fall line. Usually this means you get to have
plenty of laidback GS turns.  Yesterday, thanks to the heavy snow,  we
were lucky if we made ten.    Yesterday, thanks to the warmth, we were
lucky if, while poling down the steepest pitches, we weren't pushing
along one of those evergrowing snowballs that you would always see in
the old Bugs Bunny cartoons.   Yesterday, we were lucky we weren't at
work, maybe.

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