The Blizzard

This short clip, will far better illustrate the insane day on the mountain- in a far superior descriptive manner than any Anna-drivel could attempt to broach on. Potentially even more successfully than today's pap of 4/5ths of our gnarly boarding team- inclusive of a lovely Irish stray named Joanne whom we picked up along the way looking very lost in the sea of frozen foggy ice. My legs were unusually exhausted along the endlessly unforgiving extensive stretches of flat, where I would regularly lose my pals in the fierce mist; but I think they were telling me off for frolicking over fun'd dance moves until too late last night. It was the determination and tenacious straights of my stoic friends that urged me on through the relentless force of the whirlwind nature that storms its great fists onto us from time-to-time.

We eventually found our way back to the handsome striking sights of the impossibly invisible, but sturdy and loyal threads of the chair lifts that represented a welcoming knowledge of where we were at last, and to celebrate we huddled inside the mid-station giggling over vin chauds + urging nearby tables to vacate before they'd finished their meals so we could nibble on a free lunch; no such luck. Wearily exhilarated, but excitedly exhausted it was time to retire to the valley- to slurp on happy hour jugs of watery beer + devour handsomely portioned bowls of steaming chips before enthusiastically moving back into the lap of a luxuriously divested chalet; sitting still, quiet and drowned in an unexpected evening sun- the possibilities of superbly allocated shine time stretched out before us, and it was time to dive in.