Corduroy Mountain

Today was a snow day. It was clear and crisp and I'd cleared my calendar. With our regular part-time nanny at the house, Lynn and I headed to the local ski area which has a 10-foot base (and they ain't lyin'), and skied for about 80 minutes on blissful corduroy. The grooming was terrific. And I know some folks go in for that powder stuff, but I don't have the skis for it. Corduroy (when it's not frozen and was basically untracked mid-week) was a lot of fun.

It should amaze anyone who knew me before I met Lynn that I ski. And I'm a real skier now. I graduated to blue and mild blacks a couple of years ago. Lynn went to take one more fast run while I headed back to the car, but on the way, I had to do a quick green run for fun. You can tell I'm a skier now because I slipped in one more run and the green run felt practically flat after skiing a very reasonable blue three times.