Yesterday was, I think, the best skiing I've ever had. One to two feet of snow had fallen throughout the Wasatch the night before, and I headed to Snowbasin. I got there a little later than planned though, because one of my mittens had developed a rip. I had looked around at several stores for a replacement, but it's end-of-season, and pickings were sparse.
My hands get seriously, painfully cold, and I ski with gloves inside of mittens, and so I decided to stop by at my now-favorite ski store, Level Nine Sports, in Salt Lake, which is on the way to the mountain. I bought my helmet from them on my last trip out.
I got there at about 9:30, to see the sign in the window that the store opened at 10:00. So I sat in the parking lot in my car, listening to a conference call from work. 10 AM came and went. Still no sign of anyone showing up at the store. Now, Level Nine looks less like Paragon and more like a record store, circa 1975. I remember getting the distinct feeling that it was run by, and perhaps even owned by people who I could technically be their parents (and who all seemed like serious boarders/skiers). I started wondering, with more than a foot of fresh on the ground, how likely the proprietors were to make an appearance bright and early for their first customer of the day.
I decided not to find out, so at 10:15, I drove to the Walgreen's just down the road, bought a roll of duct tape, wrapped my mitten, and I was off for the aforementioned amazing powder day. The sky was blue, and there was still untracked snow to be had. I was very happy with my skiing and the duct tape worked like a charm.
A great day.