Previously I had wrote a blog about my dislike for spring (Corn) snow. Well Yesterday I had the opportunity to change my view. Although I am still not entirely found of wet hills and puddle filled bases, I really enjoyed cutting through some of the best corn filled slopes of my life. The highly moveable snow had formed some excellent elements on most of the slopes. Which I took full advantage of. I rode the mountain like I owned it and I do not regret my choice to go during spring conditions. Contrary to my other spring boarding sessions, I did not end up injured. This was a contributng factor to me changing my mind.

SO I leave this season a happy and extremely wet boarder. Yes with all the melting yesterday and me using the mountain to the fullest I absorbed at least 95% of the water on the slopes. It was worth it. I will return next year to as many slopes I can and still try to do it for a budget. I think next years challenge will be 20 mountains under $200 in lift licket prices.The quest is on again.

In the off chance you aren't familiar with Red Hat Society, it's an organization of fabulous women who have declared they will not go quietly into the night. Their gatherings are easy to spot...smiling jovial women sporting flamboyant red hats and vivid purple clothing. The founder, influenced at least in part by the poem, Warning, by Jenny Joseph knew instinctively perhaps that joy has its roots in play and breaking out of molds.

A refresher of the poem:

Warning by Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman I shall wear purple With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me. And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter. I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells And run my stick along the public railings And make up for the sobriety of my youth. I shall go out in my slippers in the rain And pick flowers in other people's gardens And learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat And eat three pounds of sausages at a go Or only bread and pickle for a week And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry And pay our rent and not swear in the street And set a good example for the children. We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now? So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple. ###

I feel a kinship to all those who have declared that age represents freedom and fullness, where playfulness is our earned right and when we quit being ruled by the expectations of others and start living to our own desires. I'm all about that.

My "beef" is that most of the RHS meetings are lady's luncheons at tony restaurants. Forgive me if that doesn't strike me as actually breaking out of any "proper lady" societal constraints. I'm recruiting women who are interested in living a different life, not just the equivalent of a spectator "buying a t-shirt."

I'd like my own society of fabulous women...one that spontaneously meets at ski resorts and bike races and other places where we play hard and push harder than "they" say we should. And where we don't worry about sucking in our tummies, we focus instead on sucking in enough oxygen for the next run, wave, jump, or hill. I know you're out there...wanting to stretch your wings and quit being the chauffeur for everyone else's lives. Take a stand, claim your space, strap on your bucket (a/k/a helmet), and connect with your sisters-in-spirit. Look for the other women, especially those sporting huge grins. Say hi. Say, "Can you show me?" Say, "You new in town?" Say, "You wanna play?" But above all, say "Yes!!" to your own journey.

Look for Bucket Society gathering at your favorite venue.

From our friends over at Ski Butlers...

Whistler, British Columbia...Ski Butlers Whistler Ski Rentals, a locally owned ski and snowboard rental delivery service, worked with members of WinterPRIDE '09 to support the Western Canadian Pediatric AIDS Society, or Camp Moomba. Ski Butlers donated a portion of all sales from every WinterPRIDE member who rented ski or snowboard equipment from them during the annual Gay Ski Week. "This is our second year in business and our second year offering this promotion." said Karin Schulze, owner of Ski Butlers Whistler. "The WinterPRIDE members love the fact that part of their rental price goes towards Camp Moomba, a very important charity."

Established in 1997, Camp Moomba is a specialized summer camp program for kid's age 6--7, who are impacted HIV/AIDS. Many of the children that attend Camp Moomba are confronted by similar issues in their lives. By coming together each year they are able to find the type of support that can only come from understanding

WinterPRIDE is a celebration of diversity and inclusiveness at the resort of Whistler, Canada. This is one of the largest Gay Ski Weeks in the world that offers culinary, health + wellness, and fantastic entertainment both on and off the slopes. We are committed in creating safe and welcoming spaces for the LGBT community and their friends & family. WinterPRIDE celebrated its 17th anniversary in Whistler this year.

"We hope to get more members of WinterPRIDE working with us next year so we can increase the amount given to Camp Moomba," said Ms. Schulze. "Ski Butlers Whistler grows its business, our WinterPRIDE guests get the most convenient Whistler Ski Rentalservice, and Camp Moomba gets greater financial support to help the kids. It's a win, win, win situation!"

For more information go to www.SkiButlers.com, call Karin Schulze at 604-932-7548 or email karin@skibutlers.com.

So here it is at last, Spring has made it to New England. With one of the best Skiing/Riding seasons we've seen in years, New Englanders have been tearing up the slopes.That is about to a lot more literal meaning to it. With Spring comes Corn snow. What is corn snow I am asked every spring. Obviously by a non Skier/Rider.
Dictionary.com provides the folowing Definition.

CORN SNOW

–noun Skiing

Also called corn, spring snow.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Origin: 1930–35 Dictionary.com Unabridged Based on the Random House Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2009.

I fall on the side of hating corn snow. Most other people I know really love it. They say it's part of New England Skiing/Riding. I am mostly a just freeride snowboader and I find that the corn snow makes for a slow and rather wet day. Everytime I ride corn snow I tend to get hurt. Call it a curse, back luck or whatever you want I know it has to do with the snow. I will take -20*F and icy slopes over corn snow.

The other thing that drives me insane about corn snow is how easily bare spots pop up. I have damaged my board on many occassions while riding corn. I know,I know, it is just the natural effect of spring melting away our winter playground. None the less it is depressing. Knowing with the coming of corn snow my winter fun will be coming to an end shortly just takes the beauty out of spring for me.

Sorry I had to go on this rant but I needed to get it out. Maybe with time I will come to like corn snow. Nah, I doubt it! I will however still ride it because God put it there for our enjoyment, and I guess corn Snow is better than no snow!!!

Before I get into the details I'd like you to get to know just where the info is coming from. My name is Bryan and I'm 33 years old. I live in the over taxed state of Massachusetts. Snowboarding is a passion of mine that I try to do as often as possible. With a wife who snowboards and 2 kids, one of which just started skiing and the other who will start next year, finding lift ticket deals is of the utmost importance. Being a blue collar worker I cannot afford to go all the time, but I do like to go as much as monetarily possible. So enough about me.

The beginning of this season my friend Josh, and I were discussing the possibility of finding every excellent deal in the Northeast and trying to keep the total cost of lift tickets for the season under $100. Although he liked the idea he was less eager than me to keep to the plan. We attended the Ski and Snowboard Expo at the Bayside Expo center on separate days. Though we both received excellent swag, each day the resorts offer different gifts. Some resorts had raffles while others had great Ski-n-Stay rates. Other Resorts just gave away free passes. I love free passes.

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A few years ago, a friend introduced Backcountry's steepandcheap.com , which features one gear deal at a time. The site lists a single skiing, climbing, hiking, etc. product at a massive reduction in price until the item sells out. Then, a new deal is listed. This means several deals daily and a massively distracted work force hungry for a steal. The site has even added a widget that alerts users to each deal as it launches and web browser toolbars nationwide are littered with buttons for the backcountry family of sites for quick access.

Next up was whiskeymilitia.com , the punk younger brother of steepandcheap that caters more to the snowboard-surf-skate crowd and also offers streetwear deals. After scoring a few deals from these sites, one becomes hopelessly addicted and finds themselves buying gear that they don't even really need. I still haven't gotten into rock climbing yet, but that pair of Five Ten shoes from a steepandcheap session two years are great surprisingly great for bowling.

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WHY SKI CLUBS FOR OCCASIONAL SKIERS??

Chapter I

When I was first introduced to skiing back in the 60's et al...

by " The Well-Seasoned Skier"

My first encounter with downhill skiing began at a Ski Club in North Woodstock, New Hampshire. It was a beautiful day in the mountains and being the adventuresome soul that I was, I could hardly wait to get up there..There being Cannon Mountain (definitely not for the faint of heart) in Famous Franconia Notch in New Hampshire's Mount Washington Valley.

I had made some new friends at work and they had encouraged me many times to come up to try downhill. Being really clever, I bought a pair of skis from another "friend" who sold me a pair of used 7'6" wooden monsters that were intended for ski jumping –long thongs and all!

One of the neat things about the ski club experience is car-pooling Since we were all working for a living or students, it was great for comraderie as well as cheap. We all chipped in for gas and the driver got a sandwich, too!

Those were the days when men were men and we used steel knuckle – killers, called ski roof racks. When the guys (and girls) picked me up, there was some buzz about my skis but nothing other than " are you a racer?" which I took as a complement because of my obvious athletic prowess. YIKES!! If I had only known what was coming!!

The four hour ride up was actually great fun and we sang drinking songs when we weren't sleeping. We were all quite chummy and mellow by the time we got to the ski "lodge" in North Woodstock about 11:00PM on a Friday Night. The club was a converted Boys school with three floors. The first floor was for parties and cooking with a huge fireplace, dance- floor, and bar.

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I saw the sun peeking through the space where the shade should meet the window as I lazily opened my eyes from my mid-winter slumber. I could see a light dusting of snow on the pine tree boughs from the previous evening. Mid-winter at its finest in New England. I listened to Dan, my other half, going about his normal routine on cold winter mornings. I heard the scuffing of his hard-soled slippers on the kitchen floor. I could tell by the sounds, that he was preparing the morning coffee, organizing the gear, brewing hot chocolate, making our lunches and then skillfully packing them. I thought about what the day would bring and I repeated my winter mantra over and over: "I can do it, I can do it." Finally, I jumped out of bed, already anxious to start the day.

Dan greeted me with my mug filled to the brim with hot, steaming Dunkin' Donuts coffee with just the right amount of hazelnut cream and we planned our schedule for the day with military precision. We would leave by 10:00 a.m., get to the mountain by 11:30 a.m., suit up, eat lunch and be on the chair lift with our snowboards by 12:00 noon. After we discussed our schedule, we grabbed our respective gear, packed the car and hit the road. We drove for what seemed like forever. We finally pulled off the highway, and made our necessary stop at the Blue Canoe gas station which, by the way, has a Dunkin' Donuts. As I waited patiently in line for the ladies' room, Dan ponied up to the Dunkin' Donuts counter and ordered a Boston cream donut, his favorite. He thought I didn't see him, but I did. But seeing him didn't matter because the evidence was all around the corner of his mouth when I got back to the car. We continued our ascent up winding mountainous roads. On each side of the road, I saw where granite was ripped from itself and it revealed a roadway that took us higher and higher into the snowy terrain. I gazed at the granite walls, and my mind drifted. I envisioned my worst and biggest fear over and over -- Falling off the chair lift.

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The only way I find the kind of dolphins I'm talking about is to go uphill. Perhaps some background on these special creatures will help. Like most good stories, it's a little convoluted at first, but eventually the story comes together.

My husband is one of those natural born athletes gifted with exquisite coordination, endurance, and a passion for outdoor sports which has earned him a physique worth writing about. I inhabit another spectrum, that of a human draft horse. I am inordinately strong but have a slow, plodding form of endurance that while noble, isn't terribly colorful or pretty. Mike is a beautiful athlete, his telemark technique merits "wooHOO's" from the chair lift. I get down the slope safely. The only "wooHOO" I ever got was for a spectacular fall.

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We primarily ski at a mountain which markets heavily to boy scout troops and youth groups. What I have witnessed is the stuff of parental nightmares: Non-skiing scout masters or chaperones knocking back beverages while their unsupervised hoard of charges careens insanely down black diamonds; kids on black diamond slopes with their coats unzipped, bare-headed, their Velcro boot straps flapping in the wind, hunched over in a lock kneed snowplow; kids without helmets and little or no skill skiing in the glades (trees).

I confess, I am preaching what I did not initially practice. Simply put, I didn't know what I didn't know and I turned my two sons loose on the slopes with no forethought and no plan. I rather passively figured if ski resorts sold lift tickets for kids, skiing must be safe and simple. And while statistics show that skiing is actually relatively safe, there are myriad risks. Some of them are huge. More often the consequences are financial or merely inconvenient by comparison.

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