So, back to the skis. Once upon a time, long, long ago I used to ski with my parents, but then they had a bitter divorce and my skis and poles were held captive and then sold in a garage sale without my consent. I guess I should be thankful for this because the new shoes and bindings are splendid to work with, easy on/easy off. I even have a ski partner which is a nice change for me because I do all of my running solo. I thought buying the ski package (poles, skis, boots) would suffice and I would convert my resting running clothing into ski clothing. I should have known this was not to be when the ski salesman convinced me to buy a $15 pair of cross country ski socks. They are the dorkiest pair of socks ever, knee socks! Black knee socks! But they wick, they are warm, I love them and am ever so happy that I am required to wear long pants to hide them.
Anyone can handle one pair of ugly $15 socks and get on with life. Well, the first time my partner and I went skiing we didn't get to the desired trail until after what the county park system deemed to be dusk and were locked out of the parking area. No problem for two educated women not scared of a possible tow and impound. We found our way in and off we went in the dark. How grateful I was that C "borrowed" the headlamp helmets she got her boys at the Hoover Dam that year.
Needless to say I hit the internet in search of some gear for this skiing thing. I have on the way a Petzl e+LITE headlamp, a pair of sunglasses that will not fog unlike my Target diamond studded specials, a ski jacket that has vents on the side (Vents on the side!), another pair of those utimately cool socks because I like them for running now too. C already gifted me the dog bones to keep my skis together while traveling and the wax that my "no wax" skis certainly do need. All this wonderful stuff scheduled to arrive on 1/10/08, rain and temps in the 50's to arrive on 1/05/08. Bit in the ass again by Murphy's Law.
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Digging to America
By Anne Tyler
Release date: 02 May, 2006