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This morning I headed up to the mountain to ski the run I was part of grooming and, although it was raining at the cabin, it was pooping snow up top. A creamy 4 to 7 had fallen and the wind had filled in all the imperfections I likely created when it was my turn to drive. When my legs gave up it was still snowing hard and I'm certain that tomorrow I will be cursing a blue streak about not winning a billion dollars last Saturday. At the bottom of my first run I ran into Clider and Trisha. As you know Clider is 'The Expert' and Trisha is the second best female skier I know behind O.G. H7HT member and New Hampshire redneck, Jenny X. (side note, Jenny has a fabulous story of tree stand pilfering that he will hopefully share in the future, provided that he did not get shotten in the confrontation part of the story. I have heard nothing from him since so I can only assume that it did not go well.) As we were riding the lift up Clider asked me why I was not hunting in the rain down at Anderson. I reminded him that I do not yet have a 2016 license and will soon be spending hours in a car with him and a smelly obese dog to go Killin' for the King. Incidentally, if I had a bucket list I'm fairly sure I will be able to check off 'Shootening My Limit of Greenies' and 'Winning Powerball' after this coming week.
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Although I am now a non-certified snowcat operator I have also enclosed a picture of why I will not be checking off 'Helicopter Pilot' from my nonexistent bucket list. My Sweetie gave me a new and improved remote helicopter for Christmas and, even though I am an Expert with my old Grey Thunder, the new Grey Lightning suffered a mighty jungle crash. There were no survivors.
GBCH
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