On This Day

Facebook has a really convenient little feature when you can turn your page into a kind of a time machine, where you see what you did a couple of years earlier. Usually, my page is full of pictures of students or rides on the green line, but today’s was rather remarkable.

Today is the fifth anniversary of my re-learning how to ski, so that means exactly five years ago, I began this crazy journey to becoming a skier. From that one ski trip, which I went on just to make a couple of extra bucks on the weekend, we’ve gotten this crazy skiing obsession. Chasing the dragon. Skiing — cheaper than a drug habit.

Its kind of funny to think of how that one ski trip has turned into over 60 ski trips over the years. Moreover, the discovery of wonderful places like Stratton, Sugarbush and Stowe that I gladly return to every ski season. The joyous start to the ski season. The arrival of the pythons, my Atomic Cloud 9 skis that are put in a spot in my living room on the last day of ski season and then taken skiing again at the start of the next season. Same deal with my helmet and boot bag. It never moves. There has been the endless acquisition of ski gloves, hats, jackets, pants, under clothing, etc. And outlays of cash for such things….

Moreover, there’s been the great times I’ve had going skiing and the realization that a great community forms around ski resorts. I’ve had countless hilarious conversations with people on lifts, learned all sorts of things about them and generally realized that when everyone is full of health and endorphins, we’re all doing better. I’ve formed bonds off the slope too with other people who love this sport as much as I do. So this is a happy anniversary.

So how did I spend my fifth anniversary on the slopes? By going to slopes of course. I went to Stowe today, a wonderful, kind of a chi chi place to ski. The conditions on the slopes today were magnificent but the temperature just ghastly. It was -15 F on the slopes today and according to the weather information on the internet, that felt like -37 F. Now those are just abstract numbers. How cold is -37? Cold enough that I got honest to goodness frostbite on my face and toes. So cold that I could not put my extremely expensive, cold weather ready glove around my ski pole. Cold enough that I took three breaks while skiing. Cold enough that at one point, I was the only one on a slope. Me and the ski patrol that is. That cold.

Well, who cares. The frostbite will go away. But the joy of the rest of it will remain: