First, my confession-- I have been negligent in posting since I got here. I could say I've been really busy, but that would be far from the truth: I have been a glutton for rest and relaxation. Still, I have landed on my own two feet and could report that the snow is falling thick and hazy, as today is the start of the 22/23 season. My first days looked promising, as you can tell from the aerial view of my encampment, but it got quite warm in the last week, so plentiful snow was fleeting; well, nearly vanished here.
The weatherman says cold fronts are inbound, and above 3500', there will be another 5-6 inches of the fluffy stuff by morn. The downtown vibe was somewhat dismissive of the paltry (and icy) 15" base and lustful for more fresh snow. Today being Thanksgiving, I would do well to express my thanks-- here am I, doing something I have desired for the last 10 years, of fairly sound mind and body, anticipating another breathtaking sunset as it breaks o'er the craggy tip of ol' Black Tusk.
What is Black Tusk, you so boldly inquire? Lo! Regard it's magnificence, squarely outside my portside window, from which I scan the horizon daily for harbingers of that commodity of great mirth: snow. I say mirth in great temerity, for you have not seen me ride.
I have no doubt my skills will increase; I can now fully focus on that task in hand as my reconnaissance of the Ville is complete-- I have located and marked all HLZs, conducted some interviews with many bar wenches to build rapport, and surveyed not only the dens of inequity of lore not forgotten, but also determined routes of ingress and egress as well as the most efficient path to the hospital if that becomes necessary.
Some may wonder: will I write when ensconced in solitude? I have an idea, yes, it is budding-- the origin of the Warlock set from the days of Reagan as has already been foretold. I shall write when I am not at play, for that has priority. I have located and set my cache site (OK, it's a locker in which to stow my board, helmet and ruck) and soon, very soon, I'll sally forth on Blackcomb, plowing it's dells and crags forsooth with wonton and childlike glee.
For now, I'll give some more thanks and hope your day also is well and good.