I have been forcibly and irreversibly subscribed to a magazine called "Skiing", which is sort of like Maxim but with more snow. Every issue seems calculated to offend the sensibilities of decent people everywhere, but this month's cover story is the worst yet: "The Backcountry: It's Not Just For Hippies Anymore". It's flawed from a purely factual basis, in that the backcountry skiiers I know wouldn't get anywhere near patchoulli. And from a practical basis, the last thing I need is the animal house readership of this magazine invading my turf. Fortunately, this weekend's trip up and down Cardigan was conducted solely in the company of some great people and a foot of powder.
( Collapse )
A fine day on the mountain, far from the crowds and groomers. And nary a hippie in sight.