doing it old school, early Saturday AM, hit the damn snooze, 3hrs just not enough. This extra hour of roll slap snooze, yeah, it'll make a difference, sure. Coffee, pop tarts and out the door predawn southbound commuting, put on the thinking cap cruise control and enjoy the sunrise thru CR-V window at 73mph.

In thru Davis, 9:30ish and the bank shows 15 degrees in the Faranheight. Oh. Yeah. Look at all the sparkles! Icebox change of kit, second breakfast and to the lodge, bit later than usual. Parking down in a lower lot, haven't done that yet this year...grab the Jaks, grab the skins, strap a helmet to the pack and hike up the hill, solo, try to quiet the mind. Try to shut down the thinking end of things and just. ski. Make good time to Bald (why am I hammering up this climb?), around the shoulder, checking exposures, feeling the snow, plan A, B, or C?

A, Laneville & back? South facing, not ready yet according to the wrap around, corn still growing, maturing..
Plan B, just hit it on the face. Check.
Plan C, that's just a place holder.

Rip the skins, drop it down, steep hardpack edging, carving, find a clean running seam, find that soft ripple of snow and let 'em run into the apron, into the meadow. Like Sue said, skiing on Wedding Cake....cruise into Upper Springer and find 4-5 inches of creamy hoared up pow over that silky smooth wedding cake base. Bliss. Pure. fucking. bliss. Skiing like a selfish rockstar, nobody else to worry about, just me, the snow, the sun and my skis...turning 'em where I want, how I want. What dreams are made of, ski on instinct.

Down into Springer Shelter, carving the icing, dip a hip and let it flow over, if you find that honey hole of protected deep love. Want. more. Snack, slap on skins, get to breaking trail, follow the fenceline direct for a rinse and repeat lap 2. 50minutes later, second lap done, slope is schralped, body is antsy with a curious brain. Trees? hellz yeah. Back to Bald, around behind the Grovey Shelter, look over the edge....hmmmm, I know it's soft, plenty soft, and deep. This could be it, this could be the beginning of the end, feel the air getting warm, gotta get it now. Pull on the helmut, the goggles, breath a few times and push off into that momentary nothingness.

Silence, wind past the ears, accelerating into a soft caressing whummppffffff....bathtub into a hipcheck, trees come qwik. Pop out the hole and point 'em down the hill. Ski the steeps, like trees don't exist..it wasn't turn turn crash, scope line, turn turn scope, crash, flounder. No, this was: Don't be such a fucking pussy, fucking turn 'em now, turn like you know how and thread the needle, fall line bambi porpoise, loading/unloading the ski and snap it around and down and feel the flow. About 8 minutes, about 1000ft later, laying beatific in the snow, bathing in sun, stripped of everything but the experience.

I. want. more.
Lots more.

Go big, or go home. Skin track is in, use it. Back to the top again, off the rock and bomb out the remaining open landing spot into Baldy Steeps. Another 8ish minutes later and I can't get up, I can't breath, all I wanna do is holler and howl at daylight camoflaged moon, this is the shit! Get back on it and up again for a return lap to the lodge, to Roundtop via the Steeps, one. more. time! Drop in again and bear to the right, to Boundary and a high speed groomer schuss, carry the mo onto the RoundtopFlat, finding mach looney love down the cut up cruddy main slope, skiing so fast, so clean, feeling the carved out G's. A hoppy keg snack or two out in the sun, and just can't resist, out for a hot lap, back to Bald, can't stop, won't stop, don't stop on down into Cathedral, finish with a qwik skin back over to mainslope and punch out, 4:20ish in the PM....mmmmm chili.

mmmmm, 'shine', mmmmm, sweet tea vodka, food, beers...mmmmm, leather boots, headlamps, mmmmm nighttime XC ski. Sketchyness thrills in hazed LED halo before finally calling it a day. Warm IceBox movies and pizza set the stage for overnight coma action. Wake with the sun, ease into the day, easily cycling of the snooze button. Hiking again, 10ish in the morn, bright sun bluebird. Feels like the day to seek out some rumored terrain, maybe ski something I've only ever looked at, the fabled BladeRunner. Warm up with a short Tour around Bald proper, warmup w/ a lap down thru the Breakfast Bowl. The gladed GS turn comes easy, comfortable with the speed pretty qwik. Ahhh, this loving hero snow, small airs off logs and stumps, like kid in a candy store. Work the mental map, where am I? A bit of traversing, bit of side stepping and ohh, there it is, the crux entrance...what is that? 8-10-12' drop to get into it? hmmmm.

step back, look at it, step back, look at it, step back, step up, breath, breath, breath, breathbreathbreath and jack the heart rate, get the system fired up. Step back, push and let it roll off the edge.....ahh, that quiet accelerating whhoofshh.....poomph, stomped on the feet and run it out. WHOOOO HOOOOOO! back it up for a evidentiary pic, then punch right and thru the rabbit hole into steep gladed dreamscape. turn. turn. turn....woooosh.

That's it, that's the peak right there. So soak it all in, might be a long time coming before the next go round. Finish it out with a couple more laps up to Bald to really empty the legs, enjoy a festive couple hours of apres' at the WhiteGrass beach party, and unfortunately, slummingly head home again.

Damn, that was sweet.

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