Matt Duffy
New member
While waiting for the lift to open at Loveland this morning, my skis caught the eyes of a couple tele skiers and conversation spilled over into several lift rides throughout the morning. They've skied Loveland for years, so it was pretty fun to be on the hill with them. <BR> <BR>Four new inches fell last night, making it 33" in four days. There were still deep untouched lines in some of those places. <BR> <BR>Some of those places are wide white oceans of snow. Whitecaps and waves lie as frozen whisps of sparkly powder shifting in the wind. These big yellow skis have never been more at home. Surf it. Minor disturbances in the surface included small shapes and ripples formed in the breeze. The powder in the tundra was begging for huge, fast arcs layed out in it's brilliant white purity under the burning sun. <BR> <BR>Some of those places lie in the trees. A variety of trees. Some spaced as wide corridors of a deeper and lighter white than before. No wind waves here, just visual silence. An unspoiled, perfect glut of smooth deep fluff. Sometimes I was fed into tighter trees, but with zero brush, zero anything but great snow between them. Turn it up fast and burn it. Speeder bike woods if you know what I mean. <BR> <BR>All these places I went today contained views of a surrounding endless white ridge already with cornices creeping over. White dust runs up the <BR>back of the ridge and streams into the air like white Northern Lights flowing in a baby blue nightscape. The big yellow face radiated warmth from above, reflected brightly off the snow below. I squinted a lot, and I smiled a lot. Another day in paradise.
