Zen and the Art of Skiing

I started skiing at the age of two. Back then it was cross country skiing with my father and mother. It started out being carried by my dad on a backpack, then evolved to myself skiing. At age seven I downhill skied for the first time out in Utah. I enjoyed cross country skiing, but I loved downhill skiing. Skiing has always been very asthetically pleasing to me. The grace, elegance, speed, seeing how far you can push the limit, pass over it and come back to talk about it all combines to form something like art. When you think about it skiing is almost a art form. You need form, grace, balance and determination to be a good skier. Are these not the same disicplines of a artist? I think so. Next to nothing I have ever experienced comes even close to the exhiliration that I have felt getting fresh tracks cruising along though a wooded glade, with nothing but the moment on your mind. Or blowing down a hill, pulling huge super G turns, turning so hard my legs feel fit to burst and knowing that one little mistake would be my last. Skiing, like running brings me to a almost different plane of existence. I can't honestly say that I have had a "Zen" experience or if I had would know it, but this is probably pretty close. When I am skiing my entire body and skis seem to become one. The skis go where they are supposed to without any conscious effort, everything works together in one seemless functioning order. The skis become just a extension of my body. Some sort of wierd laminated maple macroblock core growth that sprouts from my feet in the winter. That say LINE on them. Right about know you might be asking yourself, "What caused 'The Law' aka me to go off on this whole philosophy kick?" I had a couple really great, no not just great. They where awesome out freaking standing kick ass days of skiing with another great person, that I met skiing. Maybe I'll write about that later. That is my story and I'm sticking to it.