The Glory Days.
Nothing is better than the feeling of getting up and seeing fresh snow outside. A quick check of the weather report and reading that there is 40cm of the fresh stuff up top, that is something else. Then add the fact that the mountain was closed the day before due to a storm that let another 40cm build up and well…that’s what I call morning-glory.
Then there is the rush to find where the hell your thermals are, a quick throw down of cereal, a sip of Aquarius (sports drink…yes for breakfast, no risks were taken on cramping) and a mad scramble to make sure you and your mates have their shit together to make the bus for first lift, for quite possibly the best day of their lives on the hill. Now that’s what anticipation is all about.
Now when this happened, most of the time there was one thing I didn’t have time for, making sure my camera was charged and packed…And to be honest if it was going to be that deep, a go pro wasn’t going to help dig anyone out of waist deep pow. Anyway, on the odd occasion, literally have footage of four runs, I did stick a camera in front of me. Which lasted all of two times.
For your own pleasure watch in HD...
They definitely weren’t the best days either. But I’ll just leave what those days were like to your imaginations. But to the mates that rode those days, I feel like it will be comparable to winning a football premiership with them. I won’t be forgetting what we were lucky enough to experience together. The full on adrenalin rush, the stoke, hooting so loud you’d go blue from a lack of oxygen, to the fist bump and shakkas after one of the best runs of your life. You couldn’t slap the smiles off our faces with a tree. On the few occasions, you may even see…it didn’t work. We may not cross path for another 20 years but if and when we do I bet we’ll look at each other and acknowledge the good times we had.
That’s what it’s all about. They’re the memories that won’t be forgotten.