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Bright white fresh snow under a blue sky and warming sun. Breakfast was done and our schedule open for the day. What to do?
"Let's go sledding."
"We don't have sleds."
"Surfboard?"
She's more than a pretty face. Genius.
Long johns, jeans, hooded sweatshirts and wool sweaters. I threw my camera and a jacket in my daypack and stepped squinting out the door. After strapping on my snowshoes I slung an Al Merrrick, Channel Islands board under my arm. I was an oxymoron.
We trudged across the back field in a straight line, me breaking trail through the fresh snow. Stacey and the dogs bringing up the rear.
"Do you think it will work? There's fins on the bottom."
I slide the board across the snow in front of me, it glided along with ease, coming to a rest 10' in front of me. "It'll work."
"But with weight on it?"
"Don't worry. It's really steep." I grinned.
Stepping to the rim of the sandpit, we stared down the wall of frozen wave we were about to ride. "I'll go first."
I could barely stand on the slope, gravel at the top, but snow building in depth as it dropped to the bottom of the pit 100' below. I slid the board under my ass, sat, lifted my feet and Woooooosh! Instant speed. I held the fiberglass torpedo under me with both hands. Floating at first, I weebeled, woobled and then white.
Surfboard sledding. We're bad ass.
More pictures here.
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