19 Feb 2017
My day began with sun rays streaming through the blinds, and I smiled because it’s rare for me to wake up in the light, normally it’s a dark school morning where the moon is still visible. But I woke up today in the sun, and noticing its warmth, I knew sadly that it meant the snow would soon melt. I stumbled sleepily to the window and wistfully gazed at the rapidly receding snow, hoping the snow would last eternally to prolong ski season forever. Snapping out of my dreamy mindset, I glanced at my watch, remembered the OD with my ski team that I would be attending in about an hour, dressed, and descended the stairs to enjoy breakfast. Every time that I eat scrambled eggs I am reminded how yummy they are!
After breakfast, I packed a small daypack (to resemble the one I would be wearing for the Birkie!) that included a snack, water, tea, and room for a klister torch; the thermometer outside indicated 40 degrees, and the temperature would only be climbing throughout the day, so klister was in demand. I drove (I actually drove! It was exciting 🙂 ) up to the Greens to meet my team, all the while mentally preparing myself for the goopy parking lot klisterfest. At least klister has excellent kick, especially in warm conditions, and seems like it wants to be my friend based on how much it sticks to me!
Our klister of the day seemed to be a warm red klister, and I vaguely remember not even having to torch the klister; it was so warm outside! After restoring the klister tubes in their proper location and loading our backpacks with klister reapplication supplies, we set out into the woodlands of Lyme. Almost immediately on the climb up Black Bog, members of our small group stripped down into t shirts and rolled up their tights in response to the beating sun and spring-like conditions.
We mosied up the spur to the roundabout just past where Smarts Mountain Trail heads off to the right, and had our first snowball fight of the day. Some of the snowballs were thrown for Pelle and Koli to chase after but to no avail because the snowballs just disappeared into the snow and became irretrievable. The faintest traces of sunburns were beginning to show on some members of our small contingent, so we kept moving. We kicked up the s-curves of the Smarts Mountain Trail, pausing for a scoop of snow to eat or throw along the way.
We headed down the gradual descent towards the pond, and snaked through the woods until we reached the spur that brought us out at Trout Pond where we stopped for a satisfying snack. While munching away, several comments flew around about the possibility of swimming in the pond, which sounds chilly now, but seemed like an amazing idea at the time. Unfortunately, ice blanketed the pond, and we reluctantly had to leave with fantasies of swimming still churning in our minds.
Skiing back down the steep spur was exhilarating and before I knew it, we were skiing into view of the Smarts Mountain cabin on wheels! We stopped there for a little while to wallow in the sun, and then proceeded on the around the pond loop backwards (the theme of our OD seemed to be backwards travel around greens). At the intersection with Mudgett’s, we took a left, and slowly hiked up the contouring s-curve downhills of Mudgett’s, pausing to admire the breathtaking view of Smarts mountain and the rolling hills behind it. The warm breeze gently pushed us down to the cabin, and we all collapsed into the snow.
As I lay in the snow, I saw snowballs whizzing through the air above me, and knew another feisty snowball fight had begun. I stood up just in time for a snowball to hit me in the ear… and then another chunk of ice attacked me in the leg! Soon it was time to go, after a luscious piece of pumpkin bread baked by the Cunninghams. We skied down Mudgett’s and along Carriage, finishing by skiing back down the access road to the parking lot.
We unloaded our klistery torches, tubes, and scrapers from our backpacks and had a brief team meeting about plans for the week. I carefully stepped around the muddy ruts forming in the greens parking lot to our car where my dad immediately grabbed my skis from me to put in the ski box, not realizing there was klister on them. He dramatically peeled his hand off of the klister surface, and I watched the thick strands dangle from his hand as he exclaimed with frustration at the klister. The klister crackled as he pulled his hand away, and I turned my thoughts to the OD. Skiing with friends was a phenomenal way to spend my morning because thanks to klister, we all had good kick, lots of fun, sticky hands, snowball fight battle scars and good stories to tell.