Tell me about skiing! Tell me about a real winter everyday on skis! I miss the cold air stinging my eyes, racing into my body as I inhale. I miss driving up the mountain road with the windows down and the seasons anthem echoing from the car. I miss the dark mornings and evenings where the skies are clear and the stars are bright. Tell me about clipping into your skis and the first chair or the morning. I miss my nights and weekends in a shed with mates, old couches, cold beers and the smell of hot wax. I miss the ritual gathering while I tune our skis and boards for the next day. I miss the patroller who moonlights as a lodge custodian, the one who loves to ski as much as we do; giving us tips on the best powder for early the next morning and occasionally offering first run and giving you a lift t the top on his sled. I miss the clear mind, the freedom, the speed, the friendship. I miss the stoke. I miss skiing!
