Home Sweet Home

I'm back. I'm here. Wow. Feels Great.

I stand on a small island among a sea of white

Outstretched before me the great arms of mother nature herself

Calling me to her

Her purfume is a two stroke essence, reminding one of epic voyages accross her great expanses

Her voice that of the faintest falling snow

She whispers to me....

Hurry up and get your $*C&ing snowboard on and come ride me you son of a #@!t*h!

Freshie???

"Freshie???" the old Korean lady asked me and my friends. "You want freshie??? Hahhahaha you want freshie!!!!" The old flower lady had overheard a conversation some friends and I where having about fresh snow and how good it was to ski on. She went on to try and sell some flowers to a bunch of guys and then laughed some more and said something about being hungry. The topic of the conversation remained the same though about good powder skiing or 'freshie pow pow'. New snow is the absolute best to ski or snowboard on hands down. There was no freshie in Korea, but here in Idaho we just got dumped on with tons and tons of freshie pow pow. Some nice, fluffy, deep, perfect pow pow. I came up to Fairfield after a blizzard through the back way around Gooding Idaho and saw fields of snow that boggled the mind. That afternoon Heath, Amanda and myself got the snowmobiles running and took off to the backcountry. Heath and Amanda riding and myself getting pulled along behind the sleds water ski style it was great fun. The snow was so soft and deep that the sleds would get stuck if they went off the trail. Heath would drag me up to the top of a hill with the sled going full power and just barely make it up. The skiing down the hill was great, except there was too much snow!!! You had to find a really steep hill or the snow would stop you. It was a great time. The next day Amanda and I went skiing at Soldier Mountain. Tons upon tons of fresh powder lines that you could hit from all directions. Some truely great freshie pow pow. Idaho really does get great snow. If it had only gotten here earlier. Its Freshie now though. And that is why Idaho kicks pututer.

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.