Beats a day at the office

I ingeniously opted, about a week ago, to turn my 3-day weekend into a 4-day weekend by taking Friday as a play day. I had high hopes of making a trip somewhere but obligations and snow on the mountain changed my plans. Staying local was a beautiful idea.

My extended weekend started with a 4pm departure from work on Thursday and an immediate voyage up to SkiBowl, which boasts the largest night skiing area in all of the United States. Expecting icy conditions and lots of chilly lift rides, i was pleasantly surprised when i found the slopes to be well groomed and freshly dusted with some snow. I hadn't experienced any night skiing and it was a great time. The lift lines were practically non-existent and there is just something about skiing under the lights. The night was pretty peaceful but a flask of whiskey did come in handy when some teenie started shouting random things on the lift. It hurts me to think that at one point in my life i was that kid, what a prick! After a few hours balling down the mountain it was time to get my ski buddy back home so he could get some sleep for his work-filled Friday, sucker. There is something to be said about leaving work, skiing for a few hours and being home in time to get a decent night's sleep.

Friday was rather relaxing for me. I spent the day putzing around the house and waiting to hear news from the home front. Todd and Erin were expecting their first little one, my second niece, to arrive anytime. I got the call late Friday night from mom, baby Cedar was chilling in her momma's arms. Weighing in at just under 5 lbs she's a tiny one but doing well and showing all the signs of a healthy little Everline.

Saturday it was back to mountain. Dan and i took the lazy man's approach and didn't start our trip up to Hood until close to 9. We had expected some traffic delays but the roads were pretty clear. The conditions were great and the sky was a crystal blue. I would have some pictures to show you if only i hadn't left my memory card in the computer. After making a couple runs down the groomers Dan got me off the beaten path and into the trees. Slow and steady was the theme and i managed to escape the first couple runs without incident (that changes later). We headed to the other side of the mountain to meet up with some friends and kick up some fresh pow. The funny thing about learning to ski, having traditional downhill skis, and powder is that the three don't mix or atleast not for me. My somewhat skinny skis and deep powder make for a delightful cocktail called, "Scott's face full of snow." The ladies we met up with were quite the experienced skiers and ran amuck all over the mountain. I tried to follow but ended up lagging behind on just about every run. I wasn't too disappointed seeing as they have many, many more years of experience than myself. We parted at lunch and Dan and i headed back up to the upper meadow, aka powder town. I fared much better this time and seemed to be getting the hang of the fluffier snow. Just as i started to find my groove we headed back over to get in some tree runs before our trip into Hood River for pizza and beers. Feeling confident from my earlier experience in the trees i decided to make my own lines and let Dan do his thing. My tired legs were working against me. I took a stiff branch to the face, which nearly tore the goggles and hat off my head. I collected myself out in the courd and headed back into the trees only to find myself in more trouble. I took a path that appeared to be less travelled. . .and it was. . .for a reason. I found myself on a ledge about a ski's width, looking down a 15 foot ice wall leading down to a creek. I gingerly maneuvered along the edge and headed back into the groom. We made a couple more runs before calling it a day. We got home in time to grab a nap and head out to a house party of which we were supposed to, "party like we were in college again." The hard part is. . .well there are multiple challenges here: a) i'm old and most of the party goers were fresh out of college, b) i partied like i was in college when i was high school, so i was even further off my game than these damn kids, and c) after 1 am i turn into a pumpkin. It was a fun night but by the time my head hit a pillow, close to 4 am, i was ready for two days of sleep and my Geritol.

Sunday was a day for recovery in two ways, recovery from the night of heavy drinking and recovery from a long day of skiing. I don't think i moved from a bed until close to noon, ate some homemade Huevos Rancheros around 1, watched a movie and fixed a friend's itunes. Sunday night i had a futsal game, which was awful. The night of partying and day of lounging destroyed me. I hit the effing post a half dozen times, scored twice, and had three fouls. The game was scrappy but we walked away with a win. After the game we shared a few pitches at the Lucky Lab. It was just what i need to send me back into a sleep inspired tailspin.

Monday, el Presidente dia, it was back to the hill. Three of us left Portland, later than expected, to find the hill not nearly as pretty as Saturday. The day was to be a short one anyway, two of us had to get home and do some work, guess which two (hint: i took a nap when i got back). The snow was sparse and a lot of the runs had their share of icy patches. I ended up running black diamonds most the day, throwing down some hard turns, hand plants (on the slope of the hill) and some ass/hip glides. I managed to get served another "Scott's face full of snow" but this time i packed some into my ear just for good measure. After sliding about 30 feet downhill from one ski, face first, i laughed hysterically. Wrecking for me is still pretty common, mostly from being lazy or not paying attention. I've now wrecked into trees, in powder (a bunch), skied backwards (unintentionally), and nearly flailed into a creek but the worst wreck of them all is the above mentioned incident. Not because i had snow in my ears or because it was on a cake run, but because it was right under the chair, 100 yards from the lift, with my two friends watching the carnage unfold. All be told. . .i love skiing, it's the best, even if i'm not.

That's it, 4-days in the life of a fortuitous, drifting bachelor. Jealous. . .i think not. Sorry for the lack of photos; i'll be sure to have a memory stick i the camera next time.