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The last one;
In my case, lacing nice round turns through the rocks/brush/bare spots on 3-6" of steep warm icepack with 93cm Head Liners,
Then 8ing all those turns with a 150cm Arbor Mystic w/out getting a scratch on either.
left me laughing with a euphoric feeling of accomplishment.
play the hand your dealt;)
The Perfect Run? Here is how I imagine it to be….
I wake to blue bird skies after a snowy, cold, windless night. Just over a Mandingo of freshly fallen Montana Cold Smoke covers the Lone Peak. I brew a pot of strong black coffee and throw a couple of strips of fatty, thick cut, bacon into a black iron skillet. Cause, like any true American, I like bacon.
After I have breakfasted I don my gear, slip into my ski boots, grab my Bibby's and head to the lift. I hop Swift, slide down to the Triple, take it up and slide down to the Can. They are just getting ready to open the Peak so a bit of a line has formed.
While waiting in line, I look up ahead and can't help but notice an athletic looking female skier wearing a blue shell and yellow pants standing in line alone. And by that, I mean, by herself. Her blond hair flows like freshly machined vermicelli out the bottom of her crocheted beanie. What really captures my eye though is the black unicorn emblems which adorn the wide pink boards she is holding.
"Holy shit." I say to myself as I realize that I must think of some clever come on for my impending, shameless, pro call out. My mind races as I duck walk past a few dirtbags until I am standing beside her.
"Uhh, aren't you that pro skier chick?" I ask clumsily. She smiles. "Lindsey, right?" I go on.
"Yea, that's right." she replies with the confidence of a seasoned professional.
"Sucks, what happened at Beaver." I say in a sympathetic tone. "Where's Tiger?"
She looks at me a bit perplexed, then gathers herself and says "Uh, I think you may have mistaken me for someone else. Lindsey Vonn perhaps?"
"Right, sorry." I say and I slide switch back to my spot in line.
The tram opens and we pile in. As we near the top I take in the view. Beautiful. Outside too. I peer out the window and note that the Big has filled in quite nicely. Too bad they're not going to get it open for another couple hours.
The tram door opens and we shuffle out. Past the Avy Danger sign over to the cables on the left. I drop my Bibby's on the snow and click in. The PSC from the tram line steps next to me.
"Did you really think I was Lindsey Vonn?" she asks with just a touch of flirtatious disdain.
"You just look really familiar." I reply.
"Well, I am a pro skier." she says "and my name is Lynsey, with a Y, no D. Lynsey Dyer."
"Nice to meet you Lynsey with a Y no D." I reply "My friends call me Coño, which is Spanish for...uhh...well, that's what they call me anyway."
"Can you ski? Coño?" she asks with a coy smile.
"Lead the way Princess." I reply.
She skates out the traverse to the sled turns and heads back. She stops at the top of Liberty Bowl.
"So big guy you should probably drop in here. I'm heading over to Marx. Maybe I'll wait for you on the cat track." she says.
"If I drop in Liberty I'll have to take Shedhorn back up. That's one helluva slow lift." I say "Maybe I'll just try a keep up."
She smiles, pulls down her goggles, and continues to traverse to the top of Marx. At the top of the run she stops and turns towards me. I drop in without a word, floating down the steep face, and leaving cold, cumulus, clouds in my wake with each turn. The rapturous interplay between the Earth’s gravitational pull and the weightlessness of the dry Montana powder has me feeling like I am flying.
Impressed with myself, I stop upon reaching the duckwalk and look up the slope. Lynsey is killing it. She approaches me without slowing, dumps a bit of speed by spraying me as she skis by, heading right, not left as expected? I give chase.
She drops into the trees skiers left of the Shedhorn double. The snow is soft and deep. She slashes a few more turns and pulls up next to a large evergreen. I come in hot and nearly take her out. She has her goggles off and a huge smile on her face. I raise my Anon's onto my helmet and smile.
She leans in, grabs the back of my head, and kisses me hard.
"That was F#@%ing awesome." she says.
"So was THAT." I reply.
"You ski pretty good for a middle aged bald dude." she offers.
"Thanks." I say.
She grabs the collar of my shell, pulls my face to hers, and kisses me again. Then she pushes me back, pulls back on her goggles, and takes off through the trees. I give chase but the trees get thicker and thicker and it gets darker and darker.
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Coño."
"Coño! Wake up. If you don't get up now we are going to miss our flight to Bozeman."
"Yes, dear. Just five more minutes. I want to finish this dream."
^that was epic just to read
Awesome.
An excellent story, especially for a middle aged bald guy!
skiing in the rain with your kids
That story was just missing one thing. The ever important morning poop prior to heading out. That's the key to a perfect run.
Sweet blog Cono!
glad i read that.
they call me cono, lol
...freshly machined vermicelli, made me hunger
...wide pink boards, made me lust
I just bought a one-way to Bozeman.
Bacon, not spam amigo.
The perfect run for me will always be Cosmique to the Paraface in good condition with pow all the way down to the Mount Blanc tunnel. A virtually impossible feat; usually when there is powder down to the valley its way too scary to go up the Midi, let alone rappel the 60 meters into the cosmique to see if its stable enough to go for. It happened last march for me twice. Faceshots all the way down the 1000 meters of 45 degree couloir. The traverse to the paraface sucked as it always does but nothing this incredible goes without some effort. Then beautiful fast gs turns all the way down the next 1000 meters of paraface leaving lingering plumes of snow shimmering in the atmosphere. Followed by a pow covered exit down the last 600 meters of the tight cornered 'walking trail'. After runs like these its hard not to continue chasing the dragon that is big mountain freeriding on the mont blanc massif.
Cool thread.
Mine is from the El Alambique bar at El Colorado down to Farellones with a solid buzz at sunset on fresh 'roy.
Perfect Run? Never had one, prolly doesn't exist
Have had more FKNawesome runs than I can remember.
Every single run you make is the perfect run. Local hill or big mountain BC. -45 with sideways wind or 40 and sunny. 24" fresh or ice crud and corn.
Learning to enjoy the moment, for what it is, is what it's about. Enjoy every run. You never know if it's your last. And always know that there is somebody, somewhere, who can no longer take that run. It would be epic to them, why shouldn't it be to you?
To this day I will never forget it... I was spending a week at Bach with my Dad during the first week in April... The first part of the week we got 3 to 5 inches, but it was your PNW heavy wet snow (still fun)... Late Tuesday afternoon the temps dropped and the snow was UT quality... When I left I had that feeling and the next day was the best day I have ever had... Bach got 13" over night and when we got there at 9 the temp was 17... It was like a snow apocalypse... The wind was brutal and cold as shit and to my absolute surprise there was no one there... I got on the chair (which was swinging due to the high winds) and the visibility was basically zero... As I got to the top I could hear Led Zeplin playing and once I could see the lift shack I could see the liftie playing his air broom and lost it when he saw me... I got off the chair and could barely see any further than about 10 yds ahead of me... Once I got my bearings I headed to the closest tree line and that is when I knew I was going to have my greatest run ever... I had the whole place to myself and skiing 13 to 18 of virgin cold smoke... I have never laughed and hollered that much skiing... When I got back to the lift I literally fell over laughing... A patrolmen asked me if I wanted to do some laps with him, which I did and skied the NW chair the rest of the day... The whole day was incredible, but to this day I will never forget that first run...
Friends on a Powder Day!
I was reminded the other day of skiing the Spine in Palli bowl A-Basin in the 80's. Storms would blow in from the south west and you'd get knee deep. By the time you rode back up your tracks would be gone and I'd lap it for hours. Pretty sweet. No lift lines weekdays back then.
This. There's no perfect one but a lot of runs can be fkn sick. If you're at the bottom and you're as stoked as one can be, it's somewhere near perfect.Quote:
Originally Posted by telebobski
This one was prit near perfect. 3500 vertical fall line feet. Flowed like water. May 3, this year. It had it all. Steep technical start, a bit of smooth cream, some awesome steep surfy boot top north facing pow, creamy open full throttle cruising, perfect corn quad recovery rest turns, then a big steep fallway steep final 1000 foot plunge to valley bottom in continuing perfect corn.
https://vimeo.com/126960296
Wow, that looked fucking awesome.Quote:
Originally Posted by swissiphic
the run with powder! ... but I'd say I had Three perfect runs at least 1)fresh 6inches just groomed around -1 am:)- top of supreme lift Alta. 2) catching Mineral basin opening-bird- and being the first ones out there. 3) omg -the high t -on a heavy snow day takes the cake at Alta-runs fill in as you ride the lift up!
The run you like, if you have never had a good run you might wana think about what yer thinkin?
Some corn on a blue bird day ... today was pretty good eh?
the samurai spent his whole life searching for the perfect cherry blossom......
one day, the warlord told the samurai they were going to war with a
neighboring warlord ...... during the battle, the samurai was fatllaly
wounded and lay dying under a blossoming cherry tree ........
at the last moment of his life, the samurai realized that
every cherry blossom was perfect............