Last weekend – between margaritas and extended bouts of laziness – Brad and I joined Bill for a little tour in Toledo Bowl.
Following a junk show morning that didn’t even start till 11 am (for those of you who know my husband, you understand that our start was so late it might as well have been the NEXT DAY) and included one lost wallet, one tour of a newly finished basement, one missing ski, one boot flex test and one stop for lunch, we parked in front of the Deep Powder House and started skinning toward Pole Line Pass.
My memory of the short walk to Pole Line is a lot like my memory of climbing at the Minimum in Maple Canyon. This summer, after getting on the route 49 one time, I announced, “that thing’s, like, 5.10!” and proceeded to declare that I’d “totally flash it” my second try.
Not the case.
Similarly, as I toed into my Dynafits, I turned to the boys and said, “So we’ll be at the top in like, 15 minutes, so should we ski Cardiac today?”
Keep in mind that as I spoke those words, it was 2 pm. It gets dark at 5 pm. Between the three of us, no one is in particularly awesome shape right now, not was any of us really motivated that day (remember the 11 am kickoff?).
Both men looked at me, looked at each other, and without a word, put their headphones on.
Ok, so that’s not how it exactly how it went down – it wasn’t quite so choreographed. But they did look at me like I was a lunatic.
But that’s not news.
They do that all the time.
We ended up having a good, short tour. It was nice to ski with two of my favorite people, and it felt great to push a bit on the climb.
Here's Brad getting ready to point 'em.
And here's Bill's patented photo pose.