Squishler

Well, at least I must not be old. If I were really old, I'd have shattered a hip or something, as I can't seem to get the snowboarding together, and keep catching an edge and variously cartwheel or flip or snowball or scorpion my way down the hill. Until I'm too tired to fight it all any more, and then it all magically comes together for the last run of the day. Definitely has to be my head, but knowing isn't helping. Ah well, there have still been some magical moments, like hitting a patch of completely untouched powder while riding at speed and finally understanding completely why powder is da bomb (rather than something one simply sinks into and has to laboriously dig out of... repeatedly). Tomorrow's the last day on the hill at Whistler, and then on a plane back to Toronto just in time to get all my gift wrapping done. Hoi-en is the best host ever, and I'm already planning the next trip...