That’s exactly what I want to do I thought to myself.
It is my first season at Stratton.
I lack the skills and the knowledge necessary for navigating to the best kept secret stashes.
Polar Bear was my go-to trail pick for the first two weeks.
Exposed rocks were capped with a milky layer of ice, but there was quite a bit of fresh.
I crept along cautiously, my eyes darting left and right to see where tracks disappeared and re-emerged downhill.
I landed in a pile of snow as soft as a pillow-top matress!
10:11 a.m.
"I stand corrected," I said.
I was standing in Myra’s doorway, the fresh snow melting off of my helmet.
"Absolutely," I replied.
The two of us sat quietly, his words still ringing in my head.
All I could think about was my first run.
I wanted to go back.
I followed him - unimpressed with the first section of Upper Wanderer.
This is weak, where’s the pow?
everyone’s already hit this I grumbled to myself.
11:oo a.m.
Thankfully, I suppressed the moaning and groaning.
Cold smoke went up my nose and when I stopped my unzipped pockets were filled with powder.
"That was a sick line!," I acknowledged.
" Yeah bro, it gets better." replied big Rob.
Never doubt a local.
11: 10 a.m.
At this point the shit-eating grin on my face is frozen in place.
This is the epitome of why we move to Vermont.
