Today began as a single digit day, listening to people rag on CT in the gondola, waiting 20 min at the top of Breck's Peak 8 for first tracks, and feeling my face turn purple. It's still discolored. I'm pretty sure I got frostbite; Tim assures me it's only frostnip. What a relief!
After skiing over the remains of avalanches and painfully feeling our toes return to the land of the living, we decided to try Peak 10. Wow! The wind disappeared, the sun shone, and powder appeared. After coming out of some trees, we saw fresh tracks on a snow field and decided to make our own tracks on the next run. What was supposed to be our last run turned into four more runs of glorious powder. And for you, Lisa, I'll write, "Tim and I, we were making tracks."
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