I learned the term "yard sale" by watching Keystone backside skiers coming down the icy blue trail thinking they owned the world until they hit the sunkissed ice benches. Gloves, skis, poles, beanies (before the safety craze and helmets), and maybe even various body parts were strewn all over the next 200 vertical yards. The more thoughtful skiers tried not to laugh from the lift, but sometimes the America's Funniest Video quality pratfalls cried out for guffaws.I was pre go pro wllm. Way pre go pro.
Bota bag emboldened I stood at Al’s precipice a finely tuned 20 year old athlete with the requisite Texas beginners tack. 150cm stubbies with bindings that would release with a sneeze. Skin tight starched & scotch guarded wranglers that designated religious preference. After cross tipping and wheelie popping to the bottom I was a whimpering snotted frozen faced mortal waiting on the good Samaritan’s to bring all my untethered detritus down to me.