Snowed O U T

Hazardous conditions out here : drenched in sweat I drove a bus full of clients [plus a Boss] across the valley : peering through an iced up window into nothing but an expanse of white. About 60k under the speed limit, I chug my path that consistently holds a huge question mark above it : how the bloody hell do I get to Les Houches, then : embarrassed cluelessness hazes my mind. 5 crippling hours of anxiety later + I'm home with time to make the last lift. Surging up above the clouds, heavy with salient iced water, we roar up in a lift with 120 impatient feet : intimidatingly impenetrable matte grey sits beyond the windows ladened with icicles, with not even the tallest trees coming into sight. Swaying in the conjuring winds, the bubble defying gravity creaks its way to the summit, where we are leashed into the forces of nature, tearing away from the close sweaty neighbours of the lift to devise our own paths through the mist. The harsh winter whaling winds scolding my squinting face, scrambling around for any minute detail for my bulbous pupils to focus on but it is only the creaking of the snow + the measured cautious turns of my sharpened skis that will allow the cozy confines of a welcomingly warm apartment [with left over hot apple crumble waiting to be munched] to come back into my isolated world alone on the mountain. The sight of another squeaking chair lift all of a sudden emerges, like a flock of robotic bats gently drifting into oblivion, and I decide in that instant that I must once again return to the fierce expanse of uncertainty once more.

Todays B L I P P O is my welcome home from the late afternoon adventure, quite literally, snowed out : ha ha ! You'll notice the door handle + from this, potentially gauge the level of snow I'm continuously harping on about?