Easter, Day 1

This is the first time in many years that I’m not going to the mountains for Easter. Because, I’m already here! So the only planning I needed to do was to decide the direction where to ski. And which skis to take. I tested my new skis at home first but despite a generous layer of grip wax, they didn’t grip. So I took my old wax-free hybrids instead (good thing I was too lazy to sell them), and… they didn’t grip. The conditions have been such that snow is mostly ice now, and because today’s trip followed snow mobile trails, the snow was not really even snow. It was crushed ice. It got me thinking, what is skiing anyway? That you stand on a pair of skis and somehow move forwards on your own power? If that’s all that’s needed, then yes, I was skiing today. Otherwise, it was just one long boring struggle up an endless hill through a forest with zero views. And one long boring struggle down an endless hill through a forest with zero views. Trying to keep your balance on a bumpy and icy snow mobile trail going down a hill is not really all the fun you’d think it is.

one picture
I decided that no matter how bad the conditions, I would take at least one picture every day this Easter. Today I took one picture.

But, some important things learned today.

  1. The next time you want to go to Falkboet, for heaven’s sake, take the snowcat. Even the best waffle in the world is not worth that mind-numbingly boring trek there.
  2. For the rest of the winter, don’t follow the snow mobile trails. At all.
  3. Do your homework before driving to a new location, so you don’t have to waste the day on driving around, trying to find the trailhead.
  4. Miracles do happen. My boots didn’t chafe, after removing the cork heel that I thought had been protecting my foot thus far.

I even forgot that I had an orange with me, so I ate it in the car on the way home. It was dry and tasteless. Much like today’s trip.

Next!

Lämna ett svar

Din e-postadress kommer inte publiceras. Obligatoriska fält är märkta *

Tillbaka till toppen