It will never be as good as Vail,

But its a Pennsylvanian second.
Good old Seven Springs.

Thoughts of hitting a box, spinning on a rail,
and landing a jump are running through my head.

We load up the car, and pack the skis, boots, helmets, gloves,
poles, jackets, and double check we have everything.
Then we hit the road.

We finally arrive to The Springs.
I can see everyone at the lift.
There is a palette of color bouncing off the white pristine snow,
Tiny dots….Skiers’ jackets in orange, red, green, blue, and even a few kids with
spikes on their helmets coming down the hill as we arrive.

I walk into the lodge, and see people with messy hair and strange clothing.
This is one of the only places where no one cares what you look like,
because one just wants to ski.

Sitting by the fire is like laying in your bed on a snowday.
My mind is at peace with the sweet taste of
hot cocoa soothing my taste buds.

I step onto my skis
I put on my headphones so that I can tune out
the crowds, the lift operators, and the long lines.
I am one with the mountain.

There’s no time to waste, I push off.
I can’t look back now.

No regrets or fears,
there’s no way of stopping.
The cool breeze biting at my skin.
The light crunching sound of snow compacting under my skis.

The burning desire to go faster and faster,
the adrenaline kicks in as I hit my first jump.
For one second in time a hear nothing and feel nothing,
I land my first trick, it doesn’t matter who’s looking or what lies ahead
I know for one moment in time…. I did it.

I come to a stop, look back at the hill.
Its all done now….and I’ve defeated the mountain. 
….Now its time to do it all again!