Have you ever had that dream? You know, the one where the teacher asks you to come up to the board and solve some ridiculous mathematic equation, and there you are standing in front of your entire class in your tighty-whities. Yep, I had that dream two nights ago. I was told many years ago that it meant you had some sort of unpreparedness going on in your life.
I had another dream that night too. It was one of winter and skiing an endless 45 degree slope in perfect water-content powder. The kind of snow that just floats up and trails off of your body as you make countless and effortless turn after turn. This is the dream of almost every skier out there. Some herald it better than sex. Others travel the world in search of it.
There is only one interpretation for that dream. POWDER.
So what does all this have to do with today? The right now.
As I woke up yesterday, I was caught with my proverbial pants down. It had snowed a little the day before. Not enough to really get me excited about skiing the next morning.
My ending text from Forrest Jillson said, "Ok, I don't really want to wake up all early AF, unless it really piles up. We could do a Glory sunset."
My reply was simple, "Yeah. Heather wakes my ass up at 6, so if I see there is a foot new I'll harass you, but if not I won't bother you till later."
You see where this going don't you?
As my wife and kids took off for school, I opened the blinds to see what the day was about to bring. There, outside my window, was my aging FJ Cruiser, blanketed in new snow. I quickly started opening apps on my phone—Teton County Avalanche, Mountain Weather, and the Jackson Hole Mountain Resort app. No one had updated their reports yet. They were late, all of them late. The web cams were still too dark. I saw a few cars beginning to park in the lot at the top of Teton Pass, but nothing really looked hero because they ran the snow blower through and cleared everything from visual site.
I began pacing the floors. Hearing the words of the "Raven" by Edgar Allen Poe. Was this moment of insanity going to end?
Finally at 6:45 am, the first report was in. In a gasping nooooo, I texted Forrest. "16 UPPER, 14 MID." Then silence. Shit, he turned his phone off. We were going to miss it. Then, in the deafening silence of my living room, the bleeps and bloops of R2-D2 rang through. It was a text! "Wowza." Now we just needed to decide where to go … we figured that out too.