Monday, January 02, 2006

I'm the man on the mountain
Come on up...
Gimme little drink,
From your Loving Cup

Well, I am sure at this point, the regular readers are getting sick of reading about epic powder days and seeing pictures of Big Sky. I intentionally left my camera in the car due to the special conditions today... I wanted to ride, not take pictures.

For the record, however, it did drop ten inches of snow on Big Sky last night.

We did arrive at Big Sky at 9:00 a.m.

The ski patrol did set off explosives until 10:30 this morning, triggering some huge slides. (The sound of this is incredible- a big, concussive boom, followed by a rumbling sound as the snow slides. On Lenin, a double black chute off of the tram lift that Bells and I had ridden during our last session, they triggered a slide that went all the way to the rock... i.e. one minute, three feet of snow...BOOM... next minute, rock. No worries, though, there was a ton of untracked terrain. All. Day. Long.)

We did carve fresh tracks until our very final run at 3:30 today.

It was the best day of the season.

I can feel a marked improvement, as Bells and I push each other constantly. Trees. Steeps. Bowls.

For the record.


The other day, an old friend contacted me. I hadn't heard from him in about 15 years. It absolutely tickled me, and made my day.

Hi, Carp!


My sister asked me to write more about food. India said that might be kind of boring, because I eat a lot of organic food, and she thinks people just want to read about gluttony.

I can, however, share some bacon-related gluttony for you.

For dinner, here's what I did:

Cooked, I dunno, a pound of bacon.

Shared a few strips with my trusty, canine companions.

Lightly buttered two large slices of some artisan, multi-grain bread. Put mayo on the other side of the bread.

Put nearly a half-pound of shaved turkey on the non-buttered side of the bread.

Put a bunch of spicy cheese on top of the turkey.

Put the bacon on top of the cheese.

Put the other slice of bread on top, buttered side up.

Put the whole sandwich on the George Foreman, cooked it panini-style, until the cheese was melted.

Now that's a fucking sandwich.

Enjoyed it with one of India's patented pear-walnut salads.


Just be quiet.

You're making baby Jesus cry.

There you go, Molly. More to follow.