Tuesday, February 22, 2011

cold swoll

Hello, there! Hi!

Dear readers, I've broken a promise, lately. I've also done some other things, which were good things and I don't mind telling you about them. First, the bad news. I missed an update. It's up now, but it wasn't there last Thursday, when you needed it. I don't know what to say for myself. I was having a... tough week, for art. Blank page syndrome. My doctor says I'm too young to be worried about that, says it's probably nothing. I said, that's the problem. Nothing. Not that I can't think of anything. I have plenty of ideas. They just couldn't make the jump from head to paper. I feel much better now, though.

Another thing that happened, when I wasn't not updating, is skiing. And I'm not talking about the namby-pamby, get dressed up and sit down for some hot french fries and cold beer. Nor the, swishy, splashy, knees together, edges-tuned, goggle-tanned good times. Do not get me started about hi-speed quads. I am talking about skiing, the cross-country kind. Real skiing. On Saturday I went to Mount Greylock (elevation just a shade under 3,500 feet) with my two fellow coaches and four varsity high school skiers, and we skied UP. It was windy, and cold, and the top was about 8 miles from where we parked. It is redundant to say, but it was mostly uphill. To summit took about 2 hours and 40 minutes, which is pretty good time. Pretty GREAT time. When we got to the top it was snowing sideways and the view was not visible. There were no buildings open, and the only shelter from the wind (which was ferocious) was a line of tethered outhouses. I can tell you that's the first time I've ever eaten lunch with six other people in a john. I know it sounds gross, but this particular john was hygienically frozen and did not appear to have had any visitors in quite some time. After getting the feeling back in our fingers and toes and faces, and almost repairing a blown out binding (my heel plate broke off; I tried but failed to fix it with a plastic bag and my knife) we headed back. The trail was mostly downhill, this time. It took less than an hour and a half to get to our cars. I fell at the bottom, but no one saw.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

falling at the bottom but not having anybody see is better than not falling at the bottom but not as good as falling catastrophically, yet magestically, when everybody sees.