A Perfect Day
The water gathered at the bottom of my goggles, then beaded off, wandering down my face. My jacket and pants looked like they had taken a dip in the pool before deciding to attach themselves to me. Everything was wonderful.
It was the Saturday morning of a holiday weekend. Normally the busiest weekend of the year on these slopes. The time when we give serious contemplation to not bothering to show up here.
Another rainstorm had arrived on the East Coast last night. Maybe not as intense as its sibling who had beaten and battered us earlier in the week, but still it made its presence known. The wind and rain awoke my wife at 4 AM. It was most assuredly here to do some damage before departing.
The dilemma was that my son and I had been watching World Cup skiing for hours even before night gave way to first light. And, remarkably, when we skied it seemed to do away with the aches and pains that were our traveling companions the rest of the day. So, we were eager and determined, come Hell or high water (from the sky) to test our mettle.
The forecast informed of passing showers until late morning. Any person with even a remote grip on sanity would allow mother nature to do her worst before venturing out. But our grip had clearly slipped and we were left holding nothing resembling an ounce of reason in our brains.
Thus, at 8:15, when the mountain first allowed an embrace, we pulled the car up, emptied it of ski related contents and headed to the lodge to boot up. Exactly as the rain increased in intensity. In for a dime, in for a dollar.
The dirty little secret is that some of the best ski conditions can occur during the rain. The snow is soft and can be forgiving of even mediocre skiers such as me. This was one of those times.
And, apart from the young racers taking part in their programs, you could shoot a cannon off without disturbing a soul on these hills.
For nearly two hours the mountain belonged to the two of us. Slopes inviting us to show our finest wares. The lift lines as nonexistent as Mr. Trump's admiration for those prosecuting him.
When we had finished our time outside, we stripped layer by layer and left the moisture behind as memory. When, a few minutes later, we pulled into the driveway at our residence, the sun finally peaked out from behind the clouds. It was going to be a nice day after all.
But it was perfect already..