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It's been a tough couple of months, trying to keep the reins on that feeling that you know will eventually break through. It's inevitable. It has to come out. Premiers, new ski movies, the seasonal circulation of the magazines starting again, news of first snow, news of the first resorts opening, etc. None of those help. It starts small, but builds steadily, then it hits a tipping point and you know you can't resist the temptation anymore. It's a hard battle trying to resit the urge to ski. Those first runs are never glorious ones. They always seem to be on a mountain with more dirt exposed than snow and what is there can hardly be classified as that. And if you are lucky enough to get more than a few inches on the ground, don't even think about skiing it. You know it will result in your brand new pair of skis getting a nice new scar (your parents told you so). But if that is the case, you don't care. That day, no matter how terrible the conditions, it marks the first day of the season for you. It's the official start of what you've been waiting for for the past seven months. It's finally winter. It's finally time to ski.
I've yet to have that first day this year. I'm still fighting the urge. First day edits are already showing up, stories of first chair are already circulating. And I'm envying every image I see and every word I read. Hopefully my turn comes soon.
I'm off to New York tonight. Feels counter intuitive with all the snow that the Rockies and many other regions are getting, but alas, I will survive. New York holds it's own allure with exorbitant culture, great family, great friends, great sights and even a bit of East Coast surfing. Hopefully that will help appease my need to slide down mountains covered in frozen water. But don't wait for me, go and get yours and don't be afraid to tell me all about it. I can't wait.
Until then...
B.