i admit to being one of the least well-traveled people i know. leaving aside the fact that i have never left the country (no, not even to canada) there are a ton of places even closer by that i’ve never seen: Crater Lake, The Oregon Caves, Klamath Falls…

and until just a few years ago, i’d never been to Bend either. i think waiting so long into my adulthood resulted in a weird cosmic payback from the mountain; because despite my deep passion for skiing, the first 6 or 7 times i went to Bend for the purpose, something came up to keep me from being able to hit the slopes.

i was pretty sure i was screwed this time too. weather had been less than ideal, my recent illness hadn’t left me feeling especially hale either, and so i was mostly resigned to missing out again. but…

then, TBIL stood over my lower bunk in the early morning hours and sort of bounced up and down on his feet asking me if i was ready. the pressure came not only from this quarter either; both his child and mine had been primed for a day on the mountain for months, and while i could have chosen to kick it in the lodge while they hit the hill, i decided to defy my blurk and do some crusing nevertheless.


in all, i think it was the right call. watching hodie face plant about 4 dozen times was a little harsh, but seeing her get in a hard crouch and cruise was joyous. following the offspring of TBIL as she boarded capably down BLUE RUNS on her FIRST DAY OUT was stunning, and well worth seeing.

for my part i hit one or two runs nice and hard apart from tooling around with the kids. the snow was perfect, and the slopes were novel. i do the vast majority of my skiing on Hood and though i love going, none of the resorts have much mystery left for me after a decade of hitting them all.

so, exhausted but gratified, we trundled home. curse, broken.