After Jen and Johan perched a snowman, named bro-man, next to the front doormat, my friend Nick and I only found it appropriate to construct one of our own, giving him an unused barbecue for a domicile. As warmer weather moved in, each night I would return home from work and witness another chapter in their tale of regression. Although I cannot recall which little man lasted the longest, I can assure you it was a fight to the death.
People tend to stare when you lie down in a supermarket parking lot, in the snow, and take photos of their feet. I'm ok with that as it makes for neat some neat shots.
Snow is amazing.
Absolutely amazing.
Yesterday I took Howie and Marianne out at the super-small local mountain, Campgaw, for some sideways snow-sliding "lessons." Turns out I did not need to teach them much at all, as they were quite competent on their own. After seven years of teaching snowboarding, these two are the kind of lesson you hope to get. It brings me great satisfaction to transfer a passion of mine over to others, to be able to explain and break down something so others can connect and progress with it--especially to others I care about.
Marianne and Howie skating towards the lift as the snow keeps falling. We had about 3 inches of new from a day of precip, and flakes were still falling when we left! Side note: my first cyclocross race, in my first cyclocross season, was here, at Campgaw; pieces of the experience flashed intermittently inside my head. From spandex to a down jacket, from two wheels to two edges, the dichotomy provided an interesting mental juxtaposition of two very distinct occasions.
Remnants of an ice fisherman.
After Jen and Johan perched a snowman, named bro-man, next to the front doormat, my friend Nick and I only found it appropriate to construct one of our own, giving him an unused barbecue for a domicile. As warmer weather moved in, each night I would return home from work and witness another chapter in their tale of regression. Although I cannot recall which little man lasted the longest, I can assure you it was a fight to the death. 
People tend to stare when you lie down in a supermarket parking lot, in the snow, and take photos of their feet. I'm ok with that as it makes for neat some neat shots.
Snow is amazing.
Absolutely amazing.
Yesterday I took Howie and Marianne out at the super-small local mountain, Campgaw, for some sideways snow-sliding "lessons." Turns out I did not need to teach them much at all, as they were quite competent on their own. After seven years of teaching snowboarding, these two are the kind of lesson you hope to get. It brings me great satisfaction to transfer a passion of mine over to others, to be able to explain and break down something so others can connect and progress with it--especially to others I care about.
Marianne and Howie skating towards the lift as the snow keeps falling. We had about 3 inches of new from a day of precip, and flakes were still falling when we left! Side note: my first cyclocross race, in my first cyclocross season, was here, at Campgaw; pieces of the experience flashed intermittently inside my head. From spandex to a down jacket, from two wheels to two edges, the dichotomy provided an interesting mental juxtaposition of two very distinct occasions.
Remnants of an ice fisherman.
No comments:
Post a Comment