SkiFreaks – Sermon on the Mount

Ullr, Norse Ski God

Okay. Just because we went skiing on a Sunday does not entitle me to make sacrilegious biblical references. In my defense, I couldn't resist: it looks way too cool in writing. I promise it will be the last in a string of bad jokes, flip comments, and even worse puns. Well, almost the last, I’m still not perfect.

Sunday morning saw the SkiFreaks, collected from far and wide, off to Mount Sutton. From Cote-Saint-Luc, Westmount, St-Henri, Brossard, Sutton, and Pierrefonds they gathered. There are, unfortunately, no pictures. The glades were still there, and despite a wrong turn or two, the runs were pretty good to excellent. Some of the greens were a little grassy (maybe that’s why they’re rated “green”?), and surprisingly bumpy and icy. Mostly the trails were nicely white and groomed. Surprisingly easy once I’d gotten accustomed to my skis being sharp and I’d relaxed a bit, which pretty much had to wait until all the lost had been found since we decided to separate and meet up again later. Kay, Jodie, and Christine started up ahead, and Mersudin, Damir, Jode, and I didn’t find them until about two thirty. After some confusion about instructions shouted from the trail to the chair (Mersudin and I were right, dammit!), a detour on the other chairs, a pee, a clamato, and a little toe thawing later we were finally zipping down the run under the quad as an ensemble cast. In the lead, I stopped on a hummock at the side of the trail to admire the view, only to find Mersudin barreling down on me, his expression formed with malicious intent. He was going to hit me with the mother of all snow showers. It was instantly apparent that there was no way he could stop before taking me out like a ninepin. I watched with unease as his expression changed from glee to consternation in a matter of nanoseconds as he suddenly came to the same conclusion. He leapt into his own cloud of snow and ended up turtled and frosted on the trail in front of me. It, of course, never even occurred to me that maybe I should move. I’m still chuckling about it. Jodie and Kay arrived laughing so hard that Jodie just fell over, which got us all laughing. Christine hit me with her snow shower, sorry Chris, not quite as spectacular as Mersudin’s. “What’s going on here?” asked Jode, bringing up the rear. Mersudin will have to put up with his son Damir’s ribbing for some time to come. We made last lift and rode up as the garbage came down for the last run as the sun peeked back at us through the clouds like golden light from Heaven. It was, after all’s said and done, a form of worship. At least I think so. You need not.

Thou shalt not spray your friends with snow.
Thou shalt not shove.
Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s ski poles.(Absolutely last biblical reference)