Every once in a while, it does a body (and mind) good to just take off and realign one’s inner compass. Everyone has their own place to find solace; mine is out in the wild.
When we arrived at Beech Mountain this morning, it was seven degrees. Fahrenheit. At two p.m. — even with the sun shining brilliantly — it was still just seven degrees.
The snow was so perfect that it squeaked with each footstep. It was uncrowded (being Monday, and really cold). And, being Ladies’ Day, it was FREE. (Woot!)
Southern Star, one of my two favorite slopes there, was vacant and untracked for most of the day… open for me to unleash the inner hooligan and tear screaming down the steeps with speed-crazed fury, skidding to a hockey stop at the bottom just to see how far I could throw snow.
My treacherous right knee, undoubtedly a victim of age, genetics, and years of abuse, performed like a champion. Actually, it feels better tonight than it did when I awakened this morning.
We weren’t completely irresponsible; during the three-hour drive each way, the lappy was cranking on our to-do lists for the week: ads to design and submit, updates to her website, forms and filing and accounts to balance, how to market the various properties she has listed. On the way home, we brainstormed better ways of doing the backoffice things to make the front office work better.
I’ve never been to a better staff meeting in my life.
Now, just how many of you who celebrated the Super Bowl with us last night really believed that we’d be up, ready, and on the road by 6 a.m.?
O ye of little faith.
Yeah, we were there.