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Anonymous
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Well, I had my doubts. MRG snow report indicated 16 trails, none marked as "groomed." At 9:30 AM, the parking lot had maybe 6 cars. The Single wasn't turning. <BR> <BR>Turns out they were replacing a bearing, and the single did start around 10 or so. Still, our first ride up, on the double, carried us over a Saturnian moonscape of dirt, rock, and frozen pools of methane. It looked dismal, as were my spirits. I had a family of blue blooded blue square Canadians in tow and to please, hot off a day of fun at Bolton. <BR> <BR>But wait -- the Kanadian Kids think Bolton is bigger and better than Sugarbush. They breathe hockey, they ski Blue Mountain in Collingwood. They have no idea what good snow is. <BR> <BR>And what's more, the snow wasn't all that bad. Sure, there really was pockets of pond ice. But we just skied around them, and it was OK. They were liking this. <BR> <BR>Couple runs on the double, and the women were ready for hot cocoa, so the boys headed up to explore the Single. And the single was good. Antelope was well covered, seemed to be groomed, and skied mighty fine. We raced on down, with the kids in tucks, found the women folk, and headed back en masse to the summit for another Antelope-Bunny combo. <BR> <BR>After a relaxed lunch break, it was back to work. After one more Antelope and a Porcupine, the ladies broke for a Vickie Clinic on the Double. While Vickie showed Anne and JoAnne the wonders of the Quackies, the boys went back up the single for some high speed antics. <BR> <BR>I lead the charge, followed close behind by little 8 year old Brian. Brian hasn't a lot of ski smarts nor ski experience, but he's eight years old, which makes up for any perceived skiing deficiencies. I suggested a slightly more challenging route down Chipmunk/Gazzelle -- when I got to the bottom, with him still on my tail (and the 14 year old and his dad well behind), he asked, "So where was the tough part?" <BR> <BR>So back on up and back on down, with him shouting out the whole way down, "You can't lose me!" I finally did, if only by 50 feet or so, when I hit the moguls on a higher traverse into Gazelle at speed and he followed, exploded, lost a ski, skidded off the trail, into the woods, and wrapped around a tree screaming "Help! Help!" Thirty seconds later, he was back on his skis, smiling, standing next to me, and still waiting for Dad to perform a variety of unintentional ballet moves as he attempted our line. <BR> <BR>There are always two -- a master and an apprentice. I think I've found mine, at least until li'l Willie gets out of Cricket Club. <BR> <BR>Anyway, the video is cooking and should be on-line by the time you read this. See <BR> <BR> <A HREF="http://real.uvm.edu:554/ramgen/waw/6-canadians.rm" TARGET="_top">http://real.uvm.edu:554/ramgen/waw/6-canadians.rm</A> <BR> <BR>By mid afternoon, snow was getting soft as the air was getting warm. Just as we left, some light rain began to fall. "After the rush, when you come back down, you're always disappointed nothing seems to keep you high..." Will it ever snow again?