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26.04.2009 - 15:12
Sunshine and Spring skiing
I made it to Whistler.
We headed up on Thursday night, once I figured out that there was no need for me to worry about my Friday deadline... none of my committee members were going to be around anyway. It was a late night, since Boy had some trouble with the computers at work, and he had promised to do a garden consult for one of my friends afterwards.
Friday morning dawned clear and bright. Boy was heading up to patrol, so I was skiing on my own. It was a bit hectic, as we had made a plan where I would head up with him, and then go for breakfast while I waited for the lifts to open. He wasn't used to having to wait for someone else on patrol mornings. But we made it, and the only casualty was sunscreen (For me. Not for him. So I'm the only goggle tan casualty. Crap). I sat at the base of Blackcomb and watched the lifts lines light up as the mountain came to life.
I was the first one on the lift. All around you could see the untouched corduroy of the groomed runs. There was a handful of other people at the lift waiting to get up the mountain. The morning was cool, but you could already tell that the base of the mountain was going to be warm and sunny and gorgeous. The top was colder, but not excessively so. Still things had frozen overnight.
I took the groomed runs down, listening to the zip zip zip of the groomers corduroy as I skiied over it. I took a wrong turn and ended up on a ungroomed portion, and pretty much immediately took a spectacular bail. No yardsale, as the mantra that always runs in my head saved my skis (and my knees/ ankles) once again... SKIS UP! SKIS UP! SKIS UP!! At one point I found myself sliding on my stomach, facing downards, spread eagle with my knees bent and my skis over my head... hoo boy. This is not good. I'll never be able to stop this way. Quick flip onto my back and I got my skis down and finally stopped. It felt like forever, but it was probably only took about 10 seconds for this whole thing to happen. But no damage done, except for something that felt like a new bruise on the edge of my knee, where I must have hit my boot when I fell. At least I didn't have to call my ski patrol boyfriend on my first solo run of the day.
The rest of the day was far less eventful. I head up to 7th Heaven as soon as the lift opened, only to find out that Boy was stationed there for the day. We did a couple of runs together and then had breakfast. The other patrollers only bugged him a little when his girlfriend showed up looking for him.
My plan had been to ski until I got bored, since I was skiing alone, and then head down, drop off my skis in Boy's car and walk back to the cabin. I figured I'd be bored by 11, but it turns out that I was wrong, and it wasn't until almost the end of the day that I started thinking about heading down. The lifts close around 3pm, and I made it to Base II (where the car was) at 2:30.
My kid brother arrived sometime on Friday, but we didn't have plans to hang out until Saturday. Even so, Boy and I headed into the village for a beer that evening, in case he was running around the village, and we might run into him (Yeah right. He's dressed and shaped like every other snowboarder in a resort town. Look for the guy without a goggle tan... in the dark). Needless to say we never found him.
The next day I headed up to ski in the morning, until my bro called me. 7th Heaven was open early, and by 9:15 I was stepping off the lift in the most beautiful part of Blackcomb Mountain. The only other skiers were a pair of sit skiers that were far too fast for me to even keep in sight. I did 3 laps before I had to go and find Boy for breakfast, and barely saw another soul the whole time. Its probably best, because I had my ipod on under my helmet, and I was singing along and couldn't hear myself at all to tell how badly I was doing so.
After breakfast, I left Boy and headed across the Peak to Peak to Whistler Mountain, where Boy's mom was working on an adaptive ski race. Adaptive ski races are pretty cool, because the racers are all challenged in some way. Boy's cousin works with mentally challenged racers, but there's also amputees, sit skiers, and the coolest? Blind skiers. They ski down with a guide, that skis in front (or along side) with a 2-way radio and talks them through the turns... it completely blows my mind.
My brother called around 12, so I headed down to the base to find him. We spent the afternoon hanging out, wandering around town. It was good. We had fun. There was lots going on in the village as it was the last weekend of the Telus Ski and Snowboard Festival. By far the coolest thing we stumbled across was this high school drumline that was performing on the second stage.
At 4pm he headed back to his work stuff. They were head up Whistler for dinner in the Roundhouse. I headed back to the cabin, for a shower and a nap.
Boy came down around 5:30 (after finding a lost child on the hill after the lifts had closed and found his parents at the base of the mountain. He's so good) and we found out that his mom had slipped while working the race, and strained her rotator cuff. So we were driving her and her car back to the city. My brother came back down from dinner around 7:30 and we said our goodbyes and did the drive back into the city. I don't really like driving the Sea-to-Sky highway, especially at night... its a windy, twisty road that clings desperately to the side of the Coast Mountains. And parts of it are under construction for a few more months until they make it pretty for the Olympics. Don't get me wrong... even under construction its better than it was, but I don't think I'll ever enjoy driving it. Give me a well-lit, big city, 4-lane freeway any day of the week, thanks.
This morning my boss called me, after having done the corrections she was supposed to so we could talk about them. Which I should probably get started on at some point soon. But it was a good weekend. The weather was perfect, the skiing was nice, and the company was wonderful. I didn't think about work, or even worry too much about the goggle tan I am now sporting. Oh. And the bruise. But since it doesn't hurt, its just cool.
... see?
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