Yesterday I skied a blue-bird day in Whitefish, Montana. The area is famous for its sopped in valley of fog and whiteout (hence the “whitefish whiteout” skimo race name). However, yesterday I lucked out on hitting one of the bluest days. The energy was high among skiers and lefties, all gasping at the incredible beauty of the mountain.
I too had my mouth gaping open and repeatedly gasped “wow” like a broken record. There is something special about trees laden with snow under the glowing sun that makes all other things in life fade away for awhile. Playing the tourist role- my iphone was constantly out snapping shots attempting to capture some of the mystical essence.