caliginous and my attitude was deflated like a squished Ginger Snap cookie. But there's nothing like a ski vacation to cheer one up! The first day on the slopes was at Brighton, and included lots of rides off Great Western, Snake Creek Express, and the Crest Express. The Snake Creek Express is a great mid-mountain lift, except for the cobras. If you liked Snakes on a Plane you'd love this chairlift, what with diamondbacks crawling all over the foot rests and around your skis. I will say that all the moving around to avoid the snakes made the trip significantly less cold, however. The Crest Express is sponsored by the toothpaste company and each ride came with a complimentary teeth brushing, spa-like experience. A little mechanical arm came down with the restraint bar and scrubbed your pearly whites as you rode up the mountain. Great Western was the longest of the chairlifts, and included men with eye patches shooting shotguns and revolvers at you from atop horses. It's as if they were replevying us or something.
Day two included a trip to Solitude. Solitude is my favorite ski resort in the world, that I have been to. Solitude was fun, and included a blisteringly fast run down "Challenger" where speeds of 60+ mph were reached by yours truly. By the way, my mother has a GPS watch and measured how far we travelled in a day of skiing. 30+ miles. That's a lot of ground covered.
Day three of the ski vacation turned into a bit of a bust, ski wise. My large toe got destroyed and inoperable due to being squished in a ski boot for two days. It turned a sweet blue color and made my limp. I was going to include a picture but my publicist told me to burn all evidence that I was injured, to keep my safe, healthy, public image.
Day four was much better. I had some pretty significant falls and spent the majority of the day eating snow. You'll notice in the picture above, which was a typical position of mine, that there was really no place for me to go but down. I came screaming into that intersection only to see that I was not going to be able to clear the fallen log. Unfortunately the fallen log turned out to be an ambush. While I was down and before this picture was snapped a herd of voracious squirrels flew down from the trees and took my ski socks. How they got them out of my boot is beyond me. Maybe they were in cahoots with the eye-patched, gritty men from Great Western.
Seeing as I have moved, I'm not sure if I will get any more skiing in this season. It's really sad. Thus, this is (likely) a birth announcement and death notice for the 2010-2011 ski season.