Epic passes have gone on sale, and for the first time ever, I’m tempted to commit to skiing next season. The glorious scenery, the feeling of flying, the happy exhaustion following a day on the slopes—why did I wait to ski until I was in my fifties? The heady mix of imminent peril and physical accomplishment is quite a draw.
Though to be clear, I spend a good deal of time inching down beginner slopes by my chickensquat self.
Sometimes I can get a friend to join me. This one is impatient and laughs when I tangle myself up in ski fences.
Still, I love it. More to come!
