I knew it was going to be a great weekend of skiing, so I spent Friday night carbo loading at Boris’s beer potluck. The idea is to bring a tasty beer, and share with your friends.
Buffet.
Mmm beer.
A hand full of cake.
Boris, the sneaky f**king Russian.
I passed out on the floor for 45 minutes, and woke up at 5:30am to go skiing on the Duffey. Why bother sleeping? That’s what long November nights at huts are for.
We skied some amazing hero snow at Cerise Creek. And there wasn’t almost nobody else here. Well there were two Quebecois, but Pete think we scared them away with his tax mitigation lecture in the hut.
It started off with just the keeners, Jay Laura, her two dogs, Sarah, and I breaking trail up to the Keith Flavelle hut.
It started off with just the keeners, Jay Laura, her two dogs, Sarah, and I breaking trail up to the Keith Flavelle hut.
Unfortunately somebody left the door open. Clearing out the hut dug into our skiing time on Saturday afternoon.
Kristen skinning up for another run in hero snow in the Cerise Creek area. If you look closely, you can make out the tracks on the slope below Joffre. We skied that slope three times.
Sarah wishes she was skiing coastal cement instead
Lena on the final run up.
Pete shredding the sick sick gnar in the white room. The ski out of Cerise Creek was a bit heinous, with some pretty nasty snow close to the car. We made it to the car just as it got dark, perfect timing!