Once again, I sit and try to internalize the realities of the last - just 3 days. OK - 5. So, Monday - riding dry singletrack for almost 2 hours a few minutes from my office on the Pearl Street Mall. Moments later I am rocking the Hutch mobile through southern California. There is a solid swell, and we get in the (57 degree) water (ouch). I could barely surf. The position of paddling stretched my hip - which has been in agony now about 2 weeks. I was really glad to be in the water on a Santa Ana, clear, gorgeous day...but damn - it hurt. Then, yesterday afternoon we are having a beer and some CHOWDAH at Point Loma Seafoods on the San Diego harbor. Shoes off, 70 degrees. The massive storm that is now slamming Colorado is severely threatening our ability to get home. In the airport the board starts turning red. It's touch and go. When will they close Denver? We made it out. The drive home was EPIC and for the first time in history - some dude punched my car on Magnolia as I was running the gauntlet through a pile up. Only here.
This morning they were calling like 20" at Eldo. Mayhem. HUGE snow. Rather than do the standard sprint for the back, Shenna and I had some date time and rolled La Belle first run. It was pretty unimaginably deep and it looked like you were coming into sand dunes...with like wild ripples across them but you never felt a thing. No bottom. No top. No side. Vide to come...but this is why we shovel and cut wood and slave and hassle. It is for these moments and these were certainly some amazing 'turns' although there wasn't much turning.....just blissing out on thing to chest deep powder. And that's pretty god damn alright.