Peak to Peak

I got another chance to go skiing this past weekend and I learned a few things. Since arriving in Whistler, I have experienced wet and cloudy weather where the temperatures are warm. However, I just had a week of sunshine but the temperatures were frigid. Good thing I'm a Canadian! I don't mind the cold as long as that means sun. Anyway, back to skiing. I really enjoyed the skiing because most of the hills were groomed but they were getting a bit icy since it has been a week since our last snowfall. (Snowfall would be good, but only if we can get it overnight when it doesn't interfere with the sun.) My skiing party was stuck on skiing the green runs but once I got to the Blackcomb glacier, I looked down the run and found it too enticing. I let my skiing party go on ahead on the green run and went straight down the blue run. It was glorious! I could feel the snow spray off my skis with each right and left carved turn. I sprung for the $15.00 sharpen/wax at the top of Whistler and found that as usual, Laura was right! It does make a difference. Sharp skis help you carve your turns.
You do get more "traction" in snow with sharp skis although it really doesn't make much difference on ice. Maybe if I invent retractable blades! I could probably only sell them in Ontario though! Doesn't that sound as if I'm such a skiing snob now!

So we skied Blackcomb in the morning and then took the Peak to Peak Gondola to ski Whistler in the afternoon. Now that little trip didn't faze me but one of our party really doesn't like heights. I can't really blame him as the distance between the lowest towers of Whistler and Blackcomb (which is the longest span) is just over 3 km.


The other thing I learned is that I can handle the skiing and of course, the apres skiing! I should just let the younger folk enjoy the apres, apres skiing, especially if I try to keep up with Michele or Jeff! To get a little off topic, many of the techs here are enjoying my Blue Collar Comedy tour DVD's. "Larry, the Cable Guy" has a line where he says he dreamt of drinking the worlds largest Margherita. He then finds himself waking up next to the salted rim of his toilet! To get back on topic, I think I lived that dream! Between Jeff and Michele, I really think they're both trying to kill me! One of them is feeding me a Jager bomb (shot glass of Jagermeister dunked into a glass of Red Bull) and the other is feeding me an Irish Car bomb (shot glass of Irish whiskey and Baileys dunked into a glass of stout). I was fool enough to drink them because "Oh, I bought four of them! You don't want them to go to waste!" Now I'm not saying that they had me pinned to the ground and I wasn't having a good time, but I can tell you that I heard my stomach say, "Right, we've had enough! One more drop comes down here and we're going to lay waste!" Oh, I listen to Jeff and Michele, but will I listen to my own stomach?! So Jeff, Michele, Mike (Michele's cousin) and I close down the clubs in Whistler and we are having such a good time that we think we can survive some more drinking in Mike's condo. I know I passed out on the step above Mike's sunken living room and in the early part of the morning Jeff gathers me up and we make our way home up the mountain. It takes two seconds in the screaming cold to sober us up. We're about a 30-45 minute walk up the mountain and it's close to 25 below with the windchill. Don't we see a coyote on the road and now I'm starting to think they're circling 'cause they don't think we'll make it either. There is not a soul on the road but somehow Jeff feels that if we call 310-TAXI they will send one immediately. I ask Jeff where he thinks the dispatcher will send this taxi if he gets through. "Don't worry, they have GPS and they will be able to track us!" I'm not sure if it was GPS or pure dumb luck but didn't a taxi just about run us down on the road. Of course, Jeff was doing his best imitation of a rodeo clown wrangling a bull in front of the moving taxi (on a icy slick roadway). I think the taxi driver had called it a night but he felt sorry for these two dumb drunk bastards walking down the middle of the road in the screaming cold being circled by an equally frozen coyote!


Sunday was a quiet day!! Me and my stomach were not on speaking terms that day. A couple of pieces of buttered toast and a Brita jug full of water. It was a penitentiary diet! I was supposed to go skiing again that day but I decided to do laundry instead. I learned that there is no need to worry about listening to Jeff or Michele at the apres laundry or apres, apres laundry party!