Up Centennial, Cinch and out the gate at the tip top of BC.
Signs painted in red blood, screaming murder and suicide!!
Shot up lookers left ridge, blowing through big wind rolls and baking soda deposition in between.
Cleared the trees and was in the midst of a cross-loaded moonscape of Sastrugi and wind scraped rocks.
Made my peace with the afternoon and looked down onto a completely blank canvass.
Stomped around the top higher angle wind slabs with no results.
Dropped in and had the best run at Beaver Creek all year.
