Hayduke messed up the family ski trip this year by locating a chalet that was uber bollocks and skiing that was nothing but potential ripe off piste badness.
After Hayduke had stopped explaing to the fat German passers by that his Avalung was a device for calling Marmots out of their burrows, we put on planks, ducked a rope and within a minute found freshness that nobody had touched for a day despite it being next to the lift.
Hayduke and his Nicorrette gum agro style.
The fog came in - Hayduke's predicted temperature inversion didn't materialise so the visibility sucked for a few days. We found trees but he still grumbled on about how boring life was.
Grumpy at not being able to scorch the potentially limitless freshness higher up, Hayduke prevented his son from skiing past him with the "rib tickle" technique.
"Girly" steeze - just for the Roo's
Haydukes piles mean he can only stop in a snow plow.
I went back to piste and focussed on out soying the Germans for one run. England 1 : Soy Germans 0.
Not content with lile induced snow plow all day, Hayduke quickly regained some form. By this stage it was getting dark and I was too bored to time the shot to get some good face shots.
Jim's girlfriend dropped this ankle twist thingy off a wind lip.
The only hotness here was the fire.
He followed through during this fart.
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