Last Friday, a friend called me to see if I wanted to go skiing on Saturday, more specifically to see if I wanted to do a Local's Clinic (think ski school).I had not been skiing yet this season. The mountains opened before Thanksgiving. I didn't even get my pass until the middle of December.
Let's just say that I've had no interest.
So, I said yes.
And immediately wondered why. And wondered why frequently in the next 19 or so hours before I met my friend at Highlands.
I had exit strategies, all kinds of exit strategies. George Bush, eat your heart out, I had multiple exit strategies.
But . . .
We got on the lift. We took a run. It was fun.
We found a class. Our instructor was good and his pointers were helpful. It was fun.
The snow was fabulous, pure ego snow. It had snowed something like 19 inches in a couple of days. It was fun.
The morning was clear and although it was cold, there was no wind, so the high altitude sun kept us warm. It was . . .
a day to fall in love with skiing all over again.
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