In with the Ducks

We were planning on going out to see Juliana Hatfield and Matthew Caws as "Minor Alps" last night. Susan wasn't feeling well, so we tried to create the Cotton dining experience here at home; with Steak, Wedge, and Garlic Mashed Potatoes. A snow squall came up dropping the first, fractional-inch of powder of the year and making it all the more cozy.

Water Over the Dam

I think I will remember the 51 days I skied this summer at Dubes Pond mostly for the water running over the dam. Most years, we have a wet spring, but then the dam goes quiet for much of the summer. This year, a bit wetter than most, I can barely recall a day when I didn't have to raise my voice on the dock to be heard over the rushing water. No injuries, good times, and good friends. While this season wins no record in skier-hours or buoy count, I'll take it and smile.
Wendy & Ali (Dubes Summer 2013)

A New Look

SmugMug, the photo sharing service I use to serve up the images in this blog, updated their look and feel. Click through for a peek.

Balance

Finding balance can be hard. It's like perching yourself atop some energy-information hill with, at least locally, maximum entropy. It seems like a great idea, a fine place to be, a ready-stance from which to move on all that is important in life. But damn, you don't just get there by doing nothing.

Metastable

The near-frost we will have tonight reminds me that summer isn't quite here yet. Sure, I've been in the pond for five sets already. My spray-burn whining is nearly over as the yearly callus on my calf has formed. And Dave is starting in on me with this season's new tidbit of wisdom: Open to the boat on my offside lean. I think it's a winner; but still can't let go of the past. What was, What will be.

Fast-Forward April

April went by in fast-forward this year, it's so cliche. Just a month ago I was carving slow-motion tele-arc turns down Plunge and other lift-9 trails. Now the snow has melted, the ice is out, and it will be just weeks before we are back in the pond and on the slalom course. In the meantime life, work, and soul-searching to find reason in last-week's events. I have a dozen things I'd like to get done today: I'd prefer to do just a few of them well.

KTEX 2013, Day 4

It's over. Day four was swimming in sunshine and smiles. But it's over. I should be happy. But not so much. It's like when camp is over and everyone has to go home.  Emily turned me on to the music of Devendra Banhart last night, I bought "Mala" on Itunes; and played that album all day today. Amazing, best new music I've heard in years. Last run of the day, of the trip...

KTEX 2013, Day 3

The plan was that I would rendezvous with the girls for some tele-snowboard hybridization. Yet there was this stubborn gravity of riding up 8 to 9 in the crisp, sunny air that made like "lift ten?, did you say ten?". I got my shit together and made my way over for a few runs with Emily, Holly, and Holly. I had lunch with the Seattle gang over at Bon Vivant. Then drinks at Cosmo, dinner at La Marmotte, and still more kind talk until I hit the wall at an embarrassingly early hour which I can only attribute to my lack of stamina at such things, at altitude.

KTEX 2013, Day 2

It was a cold and snowy day. I set out early by myself, in search of lift 9 solitude. I ended up helping a woman down the mountain who was having an anxiety attack. Came back up and ran my line of lines on Plunge, in a blissful, near white-out.

KTEX 2013, Day 1

Into old school retro mode on my late 1990s Tua M3's with prototype Hammerhead binders. Amazing how crisp they still are. Much more modern T2 plastic has a lot to do with it. Anyhow, no surprise what I did... up 9, a few warmups on Lookout, and on to my favorite line on the mountain, the steeper bit of skier's right down Plunge. Chris always used to say "The Après Skiing is just as important as the Skiing". And he was right. Met up with my Manch-Vegas peeps Holly, Emily and Mike, and had a fun dinner at Hongas...

Arriving KTEX 2013

A relatively low-drama arrival into KTEX with some snow and gusty winds. Steve picks me up at the airport and before you know it we are sipping gin and tonics at the base of chair 8. A mellow evening in town to get ready for the days ahead.

Fifteen Years

It's been fifteen years since my best friend died.
He surely had, and has sadly missed, a fuck-ton of life.
 

The New Year

Optimistic. Excited. Eager. Challenged. Thankful. Wiser. Enthusiastic. Relentless. Mindful. Yet still expecting many of the happy (and not so happy) mistakes of years gone by. To all, a Kind and Happy New Year.

Bushkill Sleigh Trip (Redux deux)

"Life is short, Break the Rules. Forgive quickly, Kiss slowly. Love truly. Laugh uncontrollably, and never regret anything that made you smile..." -Marc Twain

Fall Again

The season cycle keeps turning round and round. A few weeks past the equinox it is unquestionably fall. Water skiing is over, my ski sitting sadly in a corner of the garage. Sure, there's a playlist of fun Dubes Videos; as well as evidence of the extra-awesomeness we had at Camp Bisco. But mostly I'm looking ahead. Eagerly.
 
Photo: CMS

65 days

Another summer of water skiing in New Hampshire, 65 days this year, is past. Maybe another day or so for the odd "Indian summer". Click for a YouTube Playlist of some of the videos from the pond this year.

Watching Turkeys

As summer winds down, a familiar northern goshawk has been keeping an eye on the gang of wild turkeys on the hill.

Chickie

I found a few frames of old Super-8 film from 1974 of what appear to show MaryAnn being blown about in the backseat of Cathy's yellow Galaxy 500 convertible, Chickie. I love these historical gems and when I have some time I'll go digging for more.

Bisco 2012

Camp Bisco 2012 was great. More than just the music, again, it was the cool kids: Mario and Sam, Lewis and Steph, Sara, Devon, Coxon, and the rest. I'd like to think that's how we kicked it back in the Bushkill; one solid tribe almost effortlessly looking out for each other. Respect!

End of Manitou

I suppose I'm in just a little bit of denial. Memorial day 2012 has come and gone in a flash, like Manitou and pig pen visions of the past, the truth and memories don't fade; perhaps they get stronger, even distorted in a good way. But I think I'm blocking something out. I ritually spent the long weekend in the water, my temple, doing what little else can: focusing all attention in one place for 16 blissful seconds. Soundtrack: Gillan Welch, Attitude: Johnny Walker, Outlook: Hopeful