Lawnmowers and Powder days
My feet started to ache from my boots. Sweat collected on my thigh under my Stevens Pass trail map. The drone of a lawnmower was puttering away, competing with the upbeat music of “Ski Movie II High Society�. As the skiers were soaring off cliffs in the movie, I made the decision sitting on my couch to jump off the infamous Tye Rock. I dreamt of being on Tye Mill chairlift with my buddies to receive another strong dose of adrenaline.
With Alex and Miles by my side we slowly swayed in the corroded black lift. The taste of a chocolate peanut butter Cliff Bar was still lingering in my mouth. I could tell that it had snowed a good two feet last night, when the skiers' bodies looked as if they were amputated at the chest down on each turn. Above me were soupy clouds that had created a windless white heaven. Alex and Miles were fidgeting in their seats. As soon as I was directly above Tye Rock I said, “I’m going to do it� with a tone of indifference, although my insides were bursting with excitement. They looked at me, dumbfounded. Alex said, “Are you crazy?� Without pausing to take in the comment, I repeated my words. My eyes were locked between my skis at the ominous cliff below, not bothering to look at the upcoming unloading station.
The black chair nudged me off the seat pushing me towards the run as though it was urging me on. I could feel my whole body pulsating rhythmically with blood. I methodically strapped my poles on and clicked into my new LBF skis. I ripped off my last piece of beef jerky. Every turn down the blanketed slope was equivalent one violent chew of the jerky. Alex and Miles traversed down below me. Alex murmured, “You don’t have to do this,� but I was committed to the bone. Without any notice, I pointed ‘em down hill. The grade increased, and I could see a bottomless sparkling white abyss below. When the tips of my skis had air under them I felt the sensation of pure freedom. All of my troubles had lifted away. As time stood still, I slowly sank back into the deep, forgiving fluff. It felt as if there were no interface between the air and snow.
As the volume of my senses was turned up, I heard people on the chair lift cheering. I let out a loud hoot. Alex pushed toward me gasping, “That was awesome� I just smiled and sealed the moment into a memory. That day will forever be embedded into my brain. It will be played over and over in my head like the threatening drivers education videos you’re forced to see. But as the ski season ends and the growling of lawnmowers starts, you will find me one the couch fully equipped for winter. With ski movies blaring; my mind racing through unforgettable powder days, first cliff drops, and the anticipation for a life time full of more ski memories.
-Eric Schmitz
Don't take it for granted
My feet started to ache from my boots. Sweat collected on my thigh under my Stevens Pass trail map. The drone of a lawnmower was puttering away, competing with the upbeat music of “Ski Movie II High Society�. As the skiers were soaring off cliffs in the movie, I made the decision sitting on my couch to jump off the infamous Tye Rock. I dreamt of being on Tye Mill chairlift with my buddies to receive another strong dose of adrenaline.
With Alex and Miles by my side we slowly swayed in the corroded black lift. The taste of a chocolate peanut butter Cliff Bar was still lingering in my mouth. I could tell that it had snowed a good two feet last night, when the skiers' bodies looked as if they were amputated at the chest down on each turn. Above me were soupy clouds that had created a windless white heaven. Alex and Miles were fidgeting in their seats. As soon as I was directly above Tye Rock I said, “I’m going to do it� with a tone of indifference, although my insides were bursting with excitement. They looked at me, dumbfounded. Alex said, “Are you crazy?� Without pausing to take in the comment, I repeated my words. My eyes were locked between my skis at the ominous cliff below, not bothering to look at the upcoming unloading station.
The black chair nudged me off the seat pushing me towards the run as though it was urging me on. I could feel my whole body pulsating rhythmically with blood. I methodically strapped my poles on and clicked into my new LBF skis. I ripped off my last piece of beef jerky. Every turn down the blanketed slope was equivalent one violent chew of the jerky. Alex and Miles traversed down below me. Alex murmured, “You don’t have to do this,� but I was committed to the bone. Without any notice, I pointed ‘em down hill. The grade increased, and I could see a bottomless sparkling white abyss below. When the tips of my skis had air under them I felt the sensation of pure freedom. All of my troubles had lifted away. As time stood still, I slowly sank back into the deep, forgiving fluff. It felt as if there were no interface between the air and snow.
As the volume of my senses was turned up, I heard people on the chair lift cheering. I let out a loud hoot. Alex pushed toward me gasping, “That was awesome� I just smiled and sealed the moment into a memory. That day will forever be embedded into my brain. It will be played over and over in my head like the threatening drivers education videos you’re forced to see. But as the ski season ends and the growling of lawnmowers starts, you will find me one the couch fully equipped for winter. With ski movies blaring; my mind racing through unforgettable powder days, first cliff drops, and the anticipation for a life time full of more ski memories.
-Eric Schmitz
Don't take it for granted
