Skiing with The Goddess Rachael

So I finally got in the first skiing of the season.
Oh sure you scoff. You say ‘Why Rachael! The season will be over in another three weeks.’
This may be true. Actually it is.
Fiddle De Dee.
Today was spec-fucking-tacular.

Figured out how to use the ‘ski bag’ option on the Audi and it’s pretty spiffy.
You open a panel in the back seat and a ski length rubber/plastic tube rolls out. It extends through the middle of the backseats. Your skis don’t drip water all over the car and you have the entire cargo area for boots, jackets, bags, chainsaws and body parts.

Coolness. No wrestling the back seats down or manhandling the skis and poles onto the roof. I like.

This is my first year without a season pass at Mt. Rose, making the pastime of skiing hard on the wallet. So, it’s a good thing I didn’t have a vehicle or any cash until late in the season after all. Flying Spaghetti Monster works in strange and mysterious ways.
Similar to myself.

Started off on a green run to make sure I was still as spastic as last year. Check.
Took the next run a bit faster, then by the third run was working on style (it’s a way of doing!) and by the fourth was almost up to speed.
By the fifth run of the morning I was flying. I felt like a Goddess of the Snows.

I forgot that there’s something I’m actually good at.

A feeling of euphoria and perfect happiness comes when your body, mind, heart and soul are in sync.
It is the moment when body goes on auto-pilot and mind catches the sights and feelings without working on the mechanics of the act.

It’s difficult to articulate.
To paraphrase the Supreme Court… ‘I know it when I feel it.’

For me it only happens with skiing and playing music.

Today I felt that total integration. The sheer joy. I laughed and cried and grinned like a fool.
It’s my religion and spiritual path. Thankfully church was virtually deserted and I had the place to myself.

By the last few runs I had the iPod cranked to 11 and was scaring the crap out of the boarders on Kit Carson and the Slide side back bowl.

I’m screaming down that last run singing along at the top of my lungs and purposely kicking up snow when I carve….

Am pretty sure some guy mouthed ‘who the fuck was that bitch with the braids screaming Bowie tunes?’

Well that about covers my morning. Will be back up there again tomorrow. There are Black Diamonds to conquer and it’s Ladies Day;  a lift ticket is $19.00. Cheap cheap cheap.
Also similar to myself.

Tonight I’m gonna cuddle up with a big bottle of ibuprofen and a heating pad. The quads are already screaming in agony.
Oddly enough my past week at the gym hasn’t made up for missing the previous 6 months of work-outs.
Go figure.
I like the burn, and after all… Pleasure is the child of pain.

~Miss R

9 thoughts on “Skiing with The Goddess Rachael

  1. max you’ll love this:
    i totally thieved that line from a 20 year old michael franks song.
    ya it is brilliant or it wouldn’t have stuck in my head all of these damned years. oooh and it fits yeah baby.

    isn’t the line ‘plagiarism is the sincerest from of flattery?’
    oh hell it’s something like that.


  2. Antonio knows. And it’s okay with him. I checked. There are only so many words available and they’re bound to show up in that order at some point again. No worries. there are only tweleve notes too, and we don’t stop writing music do we? Well I do. I’ve run out…

    Thieving is another matter. Wipe your mouth.


  3. I was thinking of attending TAM in June in Vegas, and had been thinking, “y’know, it’d be cool to bump into Rachael there.”

    Now I’m not so sure, because your cargo area is scaring me.


  4. donna,

    next time i hear a particularly bad musician i’ll advise them … ” Hey. Don’t you know that there are only 12 notes in the scale? You’ve clearly abused your allotment. Now hand me that guitar you eeeeediot.”

    oh no worries my dear. the chainsaws and remains (of the day) will be spic and span by the TAM show.
    assuming of course no one pisses me off in the interim.
    tough call.

    if you ever make it to reno i promise to leave the chainsaw at home.
    cross my spleen and hope to die.


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