March 28, 2010

A letter to the Mountain

Dear Mt. Baker,

    Thank you for a wonderful season. Thank you for opening with a sunny, superfast 16 degree day in December, maintaining a healthy snowpack in January, giving us killer February powder days,  holding our gates firmly in the snow when Dave the Destroyer decided to take a crack at them (not a joke). Thank you for closing our season with a day that gave us wind, rain, snow, sleet, hail, wind, grapple, wind, snow, wind, and rain. Thank you for making me hold my rain gear to a Baker-proof standard ( the only article to pass being a set of olive-drab rubberized crabbing/rain pants that are older than I am). Thank you for teaching me the meaning of "soaked and frozen down to the skin" and making sure that when I peel off layer after layer of sopping-wet clothes and drop them on the floor, they make a satisfying "splat."

Thank you for great kids with a passion for skiing and an unwillingness to quit. Thank you for making sure that I am unable to hold a straight face in the start-gate when presented with the antics of a certain  character. Thank you for kids as young as seven who refuse to let a cliff stand in their way of insisting that "this is a run, my dad and I did it yesterday!" Thank you for this behavior never running out, no matter how old they are.

Thank you for a coaching staff that works hard and plays harder. I enjoy 7:00am serenades of "Bad Romance" whilst standing on a freezing race-course. I also enjoy 9:00am renditions of  "From the Window to the Wall" on chairlifts, as well as lunchtime beatbox-mixes of the phrase "Hey, I think i know that guy." Thank you also for the repartee of the Coach Table. Thanks for being awesome guys.

Dearest Mountain, I truly enjoy the way the wind whips down your slopes and pelts my face with bits of tree while I gaze longingly at the back-country so tantalizingly visible from chair eight. Thank you also for the ice-ball that drops from the overhead bar and jolts me out of my surely-avalanche-free mental trip down the Shuksan Arm.

And so Mt. Baker,  we shall meet again in the not-so-distant-future.

Amor y Besos,  me

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