90 Days and Counting...

The end of August is upon us. The winds in Big Sky's Mountain Village grow ever stronger with the smell of winter, mixed in with the smoke from the fires in nearby Idaho. It is clear once I step outside that summer is definitely over at higher elevations. While people in other parts of the country scramble to enjoy their last-minute summer vacations and get their back-to-school shopping done, I watch the seasons already evolving, obsessed with the cooling fall weather. With each degree lost in the daily forecast, my excitement and anticipation grows. The nighttime temps will soon drop below freezing, and I will look out my window to see the landscape delicately adorned with frost. Gym sessions become more compulsory, and "it's too nice out to go to the gym" no longer applies as a valid excuse. Soon it will be time. My skis stand in the corner of my tiny studio apartment, patiently waiting to be slung over my shoulder for the short walk to Big Sky Resort's base area. The ski dreams come regularly nowadays. People I haven't seen since the end of last ski season start to come out of the woodwork, sparking vivid memories of powder days past... Cold Smoke, White Room, Blower Pow. Soon the mountains will echo once again with the sound of the stoked; high fives being slapped after a 2000 foot descent of Lone Peak; the inevitable "YYYEEEEAAAAHHH" of friends relishing in face shots, core shots, and whiskey shots. Soon my alarm clock will be the Shoveler outside my door; the scrapes of plastic on wood hinting at me in the wee hours of the morning that it snowed last night, and it's time to get moving. It won't be long now.