As I look at the trails, I feel the warmth of my breath being thrown back to me by a fleece face cover. I hear the mumbled conversations of skiers around me. I see the snow laden pine trees in between the runs. I smell the cooking of the cabin on the next run over. I find my plan and I turn and glide trail after trail. I carve with the greatest of ease along the snow. I weave through the trees hearing nothing but thoughts and snow being thrown behind me. This is where I feel at home, this is where I want to
As I look at the trails, I feel the warmth of my breath being thrown back to me by a fleece face cover. I hear the mumbled conversations of skiers around me. I see the snow laden pine trees in between the runs. I smell the cooking of the cabin on the next run over. I find my plan and I turn and glide trail after trail. I carve with the greatest of ease along the snow. I weave through the trees hearing nothing but thoughts and snow being thrown behind me. This is where I feel at home, this is where I want to