What a difference a face makes — when you can feel it, that is. Despite the sun peeking out from behind the clouds, yesterday was a bitterly cold day in Vermont, where I hit Pico for an afternoon on the slopes. The mountain had received two feet of fresh powder, so that part I loved. It was just the wind that was painful at first.
After my first couple runs of the day, I couldn’t feel my face or ears, despite their being covered by my hat. There was no way I coud ski without more face covering. Luckily, I had brought my face mask, but had left it in the car. After retrieving the face mask, it was like a whole new world: I could feel my face again and could enjoy the day.
With skiing, as with most things in life, some days you’re on and some days you’re off. Yesterday I was on. The powder brought me back to Tahoe, where I grew up skiing and where I skied regularly until we moved to this coast. I was tearin’ it up and it felt great. The 30 seconds of squats I try to do every day really pay off on the slopes since my quads don’t beg for mercy or give out anymore.
As for PIco, I hadn’t been there in years — probably not since the Vassar Ski Team days — but I could go without it next time. I went there to take advantage of a $29 lift ticket special via a free Pico Card (from my Price Chopper Passbook), and you really get what you pay for in Killington‘s little sister. There was really only one run worth skiing (Upper Pike) and the lift to get you there took way too long. Even the double-diamond run with the promising name Upper Giant Killer wasn’t all that, with barely any snow cover and not all that steep.
Despite the smallness of the place, I had a great day 4 on the slopes this season, and I’m not a bit sore this morning.
