There Really Are Friends on Powder Days: A Creative Work of Fiction
With two quick cuts, Mike plunged into the narrow chute which opened up into a steep double fall line stash. Checking my six to ensure we were not being watching or followed, I charged in after him. After the initial steep pitch, we found ourselves balls deep in the trees skiing the lightest fluff of the season. Mike has never sampled this line before and I was feeling generous with the untracked. Perhaps the old adage doesn’t always hold true, there really are friends on powder days.
Blurry eyed from hours of research and starring at our computer monitors, we made our decision the night before. Pouring over dozens of forecasts and weather models, the decision was made via Instant Messenger to meet at Cannon’s Tram Station promptly at 7:45 A.M. First Tram at Cannon leaves the Station at 8:15 A.M. and is often crowded. But if your ass isn’t in line by 8 A.M. on a powder day, you might as well be grabbing first chair at Peabody Lodge cause you’re in for a long wait.
Restless energy finally gave way to slumber. However, I would not entertain dreams of deep powder and blue bird skies. Dreams are meant to be lived and skiers who dream of such things while sleeping usually aren’t getting any. Real dreams begin when you wake up.
The alarm clock was poised to spring a rude awakening upon me, but such emergency back up devices are hardly ever needed on days like these. Lunch was already packed and the ski clothes laid out. I ran through the morning routine and found my gear and skis in the ready position by the door.

