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Whistler while you work; not anymore...
Stay away, I have rabies!
Yes snowboarding is this much fun. And look, everyone in the photo won't be present for round two. Sad.

As I lie here beneath my sheets, slowly counting down to what will surely be a horrendous weekend, I'm looking back at the past few days with a grin. The skies teased me on Tuesday, washing the urban scape with pure swaths of white only to take it all away the very next day with a torrential down pour (so bad that they had to close Mountain Creek). I guess we brought back some of Whistler with us, and a touch of Vancouver too.

Rounding the corner to my apartment building I saw representatives of both DHL and UPS waiting at the door across the street. The two guys were smiling, joking around. All we needed was to add FedEx and USPS (one of their trucks passed me as I rounded the corner) to the mix and it would have been worth it for me to run upstairs to grab my camera. Definitely brightened up my evening.

How about that weather today? Unbelievable blue sky, temperatures warm enough to walk around in a long sleeve shirt. Guess Mother Earth came through big for Valentines Day this year. Hope all you ladies got your chocolate and freshly cut greens. Would it be a waste if I suggested that you all use that chocolate for submarinos? Do it anyway.

So while I'm still disappointed about the prospect of going into work this weekend, spending hours with the boss, listening to him go on and on about how great he is for the nth time, I'll come to terms with the fact that a number of my friends will be out on a mountain riding. Enjoying whatever packed powder there may be. Cutting the gnarliest lines through those iced-up groomers of the East Coast. And hopefully they'll feel it. The peace that surrounds you when the volume is muted, motion slows and you and your buddies are just flying down the mountain, taking advantage of every little hit on the side or the rollers approaching the Timberline Park.

People always asked last year how I could stand commuting to Killington every weekend only to strap myself to some fiberglass / plastic covered plank and windburn my way down a few hundred feet of death cookie riddled creme brulée trails. Well I'm sure the few of you that picked it up this year know now, and if you still don't, I hope you feel it soon.

Because next year, and the only thing that keeps me going at this point, you'll have to come out to ride with me in Portland. Mt. Hood awaits.

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