So, last night Sof-fie drops by to say goodbye before she takes off back to Quebec, and I said "see ya late" this morning and hurried off to school for my daily dosage of knowledge. But, last night was a different story because Sof-fie gave me a Whistler trail map she carried with her from our time spent there, and automatically my thoughts were back in the mountains. Memories of high peaked, snow-capped steeps, images of riding vertical walls and the feeling of my hand touching those same walls as I ripped along them. How I would leave my mark, scourge their surface, then drop lower and sail off a cliff below. Those weightless, split number of seconds where I understand why Birds chirp and how their wings buffet them along wind currents...that is somewhat of what Whistler is, but you can not place that Mecca of paradise into a "setting" or define something that can only be experienced, lived, and ridden. Powdered fields of perfect loneliness, freedom of the most natural kind, and a deep breath of life's little treasures. Yeah baby, that is whistler, it is so choice and if you have the means I highly recommend it to one and all. If just to do it once, if just to experience an iota of what I have, then you would understand...and if you need a guide,then pay for my way, buy my tickets, and ply me with food and drink; I would be eternally grateful my friend, and you for having me show you the way of the winter samurai. Yeah baby yeah.

"Winter is Nature's way of saying, "Up yours." - Robert Byrne