Reflections on a Fall well spent

30˚ and steady snow.

Today had an air of significance for me, for no reason other than I can say it truly feels like winter. Bozeman has had snow on the ground for well over a week, I've hit the double digits in ski days, and there is well over 3 feet of snow in the bridgers at this point, so it might seem silly that my eyes have only opened today, but up until now, there feeling of the past two weeks has been nothing short of surreal. I suppose it was a fairly rapid transition from riding bikes to skiing, 6 days after my (unbeknownst to me) last ride of the season, the Bridger range was completely blanketed in snow, and my bike has not left its corner since. While riding my bike to class this morning though, I was hit with a deja vu: something about the piles of melting snow and dead leaves, something about the wind - a stiff headwind is not something that occurs quite as often (and while I do not miss it in the least, pedaling in a stiff breeze does bring a pang or two of nostalgia), and something about the crisp dry air, was the exact feeling that I would used to have riding down fourth street to spend the day sitting in desks thinking about skiing. Funny how, a couple years later and 800 miles away, not much has changed.

I walked into my last class of the day at 3:30, the sky was no longer spotted with the high lenticular clouds of the morning, but was rather smothered in a sloppy grey blanket, hovering a thousand feet up. When I walked out of the lecture hall, two things struck almost instantaneously. One, it was very dark - class did not get out late - no it was 5:00, but the sky had practically no light left, and... it was snowing. Ah, thats what winter is like. By my estimates, winter is four inches deep on the ground outside, and I would reckon there is a good deal more in the hills. And for me, its not a bad deal that there's more a coming.

Super

Today is one of those days that makes me infinitely grateful for the life I live. Eggs and biscuits and bacon, skiing with friends and family, soft snow and smiles. A day that leaves you legs up on the couch with a cup of tea and a smile, because days like these - no matter how often they happen - do not happen often enough.

On a side note, there is a plus side to having a poorly organized computer, in that every now and again you come across a little nugget of something that you thought was there but previously overlooked. Here's a multi-photo stitch of CJ skinning up the ramp from a few weeks ago:

Of skiing and food

Sometimes I imagine life as a box of cereal. Everyday, you open a box, and everyday, you choose what bowls you get to pour that cereal into. Everyone has a different set of bowls, but for me, there is a bowl for activities that occur out of doors, there is a bowl for the necessary chores in life, and there is a bowl for work. For other people, there may exist other bowls, bowls for relationships, bowls for dealing with stress, and bowls for anger, negativity, or hatred - its all about where you choose to invest your consciousness - but for me, there are only three. In the ideal life, one would be able to eat cereal out of each bowl every day. The outdoors; to keep one happy and healthy, the chores; maybe not the most spectacular activities, but honorable for their practicality, and the work; so one might buy more cereal.

Last week, I ate exclusively from the bowl of work, perhaps school is a better label for this bowl, for me, school is a job - one that will hopefully pay off down the road, one of these days, in the future - at least, thats what I keep telling myself. Long story short, it was a horrendous week. An exceptionally good reminder that if you eat exclusively out of one cereal bowl, you get a sick feeling in the bottom of your stomach. This week, hours were made for the other bowls, cooking good food, painting, family time, going to yoga, running, and yes, the granddaddy of them all - skiing. Believe it or not, yes this was a damn good week. So with that, we learn life's weekly lesson: that when you work hard to make the daylight for the things that count - chicken curry and skiing powder come to mind - those are the moments of satisfaction. 

Its been a helluva week folks, no doubt about that. working overtime on the school front, and doing my best to stay sane on the outside. The best victories are sometimes the smallest ones, the ones that you appreciate the most. Simple things, like a good run, or a hefty plate of homemade enchiladas. Or sometimes its hiking in the dirt and the mud to make 10 turns on a foot of mushy snow. Sometimes being able to say that you went skiing,  thats enough.