Cross blocking skills were not optional in the trees at Jay this weekend. All of Jay’s Stateside glades are open excepting Deliverance and Canyonland. But I was more excited about having so much off map tree skiing available. Cautious exuberance, with poles held high, yielded an exceptional amount of tree skiing. There is no doubt about it: stick season is officially open at Jay.
Mad River Glen’s quality control department looked the other way as the lifts finally came alive today for the first day of lift operations. The untracked was sacked yesterday by copious turn earners and mountain operations (first chair looked more like noon chair). But plenty of untracked pockets were available for early risers with an understanding to seek out lesser skied options.
But untracked was besides the point. I was just happy to be skiing top to bottom on natural snow again. Base depths were variable ranging from grass to a foot of fresh depending on where the wind blew. The bottom of the base was wet and pasty creating an excellent protective layer with light and fluffy powder on the surface. Perfect early season (wait, early season?) powder that covers up most of the crap while still being fun to ski.
My recent visit to Killington proved that great days can be built on low expectations. Sometimes high expectations deliver. But not often enough to warrant the build up of excitement. If only I could contain said excitement when 4-6″ is forecast for Cannon on top of 8″ since Friday. But by now I should understand that southerly storm flows do not deliver for Franconia Notch. And yesterday’s snow rarely holds on before being blown across the mountain.
The past eighteen months have been brutal. On the cusp of greatness and actualization, work fell apart and I was overtaken by a deep malaise. Despite being awarded my company’s highest honor, I’ve never felt my shortcomings more keenly both personally and professionally. I awoke every morning without feeling alive. My consciousness disassociated from reality but yet I still saw it, a distinctive blur that I imagined myself reaching out and trying to grasp.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was never work but rather my work, an extension of myself. But I took that philosophy too far. I moved here partly because I viewed a job as a means to an end. But something went wrong, terribly wrong. And through the powder and face shots, my eyes opened wide and I felt alive again: knowing what went wrong and how to fix it.
Today had all the makings of fantastic adventure: equipment failure, gear breakage, poor packing skills, lost helmet ear pads, and horrific skiing. Depending upon one’s outlook on life, it could have either been a comedy or a tragedy. Or both. My amusement while “skiing” (i.e. attempting and failing to link two turns) suggested comedy. But my frustration with trying to engage my Dynafits after falling (again) and associated broken brake suggested tragedy. I laughed, but I didn’t cry.