Vacation - Final Friday

Friday the 13^th… and our last day to ride … a day to be extra careful. Well, not so much. The marrieds went to Yellowstone for a snowmobile tour, leaving Laura to sit for the twins and Pierce, and Brant and me to uphold the family honor on the slopes. A slowish start gave us some time to play with the girls,

and save what was left of the legs. We decided to stay on the lower mountain, which meant Ponderosa, Elk Park Ridge and Bighorn; I had fleeting thoughts of going back to the near top of Lone Peak for another crack at the black run under the lift, this time without the fog, but $140 in lift tickets for both of us wasn’t worth the one run. A few blue runs and we were hungering for powder, so….what else to do but head to Lone Moose? We did manage to discover an easier way to get there, with less skating, but too late for this trip. Next time.

Once there, it was Little Dogie over and over, mining all the powder we could find (which was a lot). The snow on the sides had been pushed up like curbs, so we would get up some speed, zip up into the side stuff and ride until a reasonable jump back to the main run presented itself. Wow! I was pleasantly surprised that my knee didn’t seem to mind these little drops/jumps, but then, it’s not like we got huge air or anything. Just high speed plops from about a foot high; still a special feeling to land on powder and not crash. It was so magnificent, to have this powder playground all to ourselves. We were stoked.

I even found the crevice that had jammed my foot earlier and was playing with it as I swooped by. It caught me by surprise on one run, and I had to bail out into a small tree, almost horseshoe-like (it was a ringer, not a leaner). But I dug out, and went up again, determined not to let that landscape beat me. The next run I swished through the same spot, but swung around the little tree--and through the rut I had made digging out of the snow, almost like a luge. It was a thrill.

We discovered another cute little jump that we failed to conquer completely, but not for lack of trying.

Here I am, sashaying slowly in front of the camera. Unfortunately, the slope was a bit slow at that point, so you can't see the full scope of my snowboarding acumen.

Alas, all good things come to an end, and we had to head back. A bittersweet descent on old faithful Silver Knife, to get to the iced over road that let us slide back to the house. Two minor falls, but managed to protect the knees.

Then the kids came back, and told stories and showed videos of bison, elk, etc. from their Yellowstone visit. It sounded like fun. In fact, here's a photo that pretty well sums it all up:

Tracy was cold.

Tracy's ski pole injury had not fully healed (note right eye)

There were bison.

There was steam.

What else could you ask for?

Then it was time to pack.