In the back of my head, there has always been the Newschoolers blog/article section.
I’d love to say the mountains are ALWAYS that place, but I can’t.
For me at least.
I’m at an age and state of mind where taking skiing too seriously is just not worth it.
We hiked rails for a couple hours and watched the Seahawks at a local bar.
The waitress' ass made it a little more worthwhile.
Steve, our friend Parker, and I made plans to be on the road at 4am.
We met up with Steve only to find out that he didn’t have his passport.
The DOL was a breeze, we skied Mt.
Steve at the Spokane DOL.
You should feel embarrassed.
Meanwhile, eastern and northern regions not all that far from us were getting pounded.
They were fun to use as gates I guess.
Off-piste yielded some good fun and natural airs, but coverage wasn’t much better.
We drove straight home and I Snapchatted my face off.
We take it back though.
There was this ice rink at the bottom of the mountain.
We swiveled for a bit.
The car rides, the chair lift conversations, the drunken, and sober, stupidity.
All of it is what makes skiing what it is to me.
The snow was terrible and the jib setup was sketchy, but we were skiing.
Maybe venting and drinking just a little bit too.
Nonetheless, it was all a nice break from my newfound Xanax diet.
Where I am at peace.
Skiing is an outlet.
Skiing is a journey.
And it’s a number of other things.
Don’t forget that.
