The Waiting Game

Someone is very late. She’s missed her date. She is late.

Snow.

Oh where oh where is the snow?

In years past, I used to do many things to will the weather gods in Montana to change from fall to winter. I would host pray for snow parties, spend the entire month of November wearing my snowflake pajamas during all hours of the day (this was when I lived in the North Fork and could get away with such peculiar behavior), walk around the house in my ski boots, watch ski movies at night, and stalk the online weather service to see if snow was in the forecast. Now that I’m almost 30 (gasp!) I’ve realized that I have little sway over the weather, no matter the chants to Ullr or chopping firewood in a torn pair of snowflake PJ’s. My snowflake duds went into the rag bag last summer after the crotch was completely blown and the elastic waist was stretched beyond repair. Now I wonder, did wearing my flannel pants adorned with snowflakes help convince Mother Nature and Ullr to deliver snow to the mountains?

I’m 90% certain that Mother Nature, Ullr and Snow could care less what I’m doing but right now there’s no snow in my yard and the mountain, Whitefish Mountain Resort, has a mere 24 inch base. Snow is late and she doesn’t seem to be in any rush to make her grand appearance.

So, I wait. And I say some chants to Ullr and I wonder about climate change and I try to not worry about the lack of snow. It will come. Right? Snow, you do plan on making a showing this winter?

While the grass in our yard is exposed, I try and focus on the other aspects of winter, like ski conditioning for the race season (which is less than a month away!), seek out great cross-country and skate skiing conditions at nearby places like Essex and Blacktail, and make a feeble attempt at not worrying that my legs aren’t used to their tele boards and I haven’t made a turn around a gate since last March. Now that I’m a ski bum chasing the telemark racing dream, waiting (hoping, wishing, and praying too) for snow is a serious business. No snow means no race training. Sure, deep powder would be great, but I’m just asking, pleading for Snow to hurry up to Whitefish and give us some good coverage so me (and the rest of the ski bums in the Flathead Valley) can get down to the business of winter and skiing.

I don’t know if Snow reads blogs, but I sure hope she gets my message. Or else I have to search for my old pajamas and horrify the neighborhood…

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One thought on “The Waiting Game

  1. grams

    hey Mags we dont have snow here ither but I dont skiso I want snow ,lots of it to melt in the spring to raise the wateer level for better boating

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