Or, as this post might be more appropriately titled, “I’m sorry to have pissed you off Father Winter. Can we please kiss and make up?”
You may remember a few years ago I almost moved to Boulder (backstory). I had been in Seattle 10 years, I was not yet a backcountry ski enthusiast (how is that even possible?), and frankly, the weather here in the Pacific Northwest was really bumming me out. Seattle has 220+ cloudy days a year, and I’m from Big Sky Country where you always get at least a little sunshine every day. This Montana girl was needing a change.
My SADness (Seasonal Affective Disorder ness) was pretty palpable three years ago, but the idea of Boulder cheered me up. Then, staying in Seattle and embracing the rain because it meant snow in zee mountains cheered me up. It didn’t hurt that I got a lot of days in the mountains like this – full of snow in the FACE!:
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| Skiing in Crystal Mountain Backcountry. November 2013. |
My tutu has never been happier.
But what’s a girl to do now? We’re in the midst of one of the warmest, wettest, non-snowiest winters of all time. I just read recently it was the same temperature here as in Miami. And now they’re announcing a storm surge – in three parts no less – that more or less looks like a fist punching the PNW with wetness.
None of this is acceptable.
I’ve done my snow dance. I’ve done the sacrifice to father winter. And yes, before you ask I did it all naked. (What do you take me for – some bush league participant?) But still no snow.
Which leads me to what I’m trying to say: life isn’t always adventurous. Sometimes life is waking up full of rage that you can STILL hear the rain pouring down on your roof when all you want to do is go outside and go for a run or drive into the mountains and ski on the white stuff that should be there or go for a bike ride without getting your backside covered in road grime. Sometimes life is accepting that you won’t get to ski much this year and contemplating taking up such sports as….*gulp*…. underwater basket weaving or whitewater kayaking. Sometimes life is going for a trail run in the mud and praying you don’t fall and give yourself yet another black eye because that’s just the sort of shit that happens to you.
Life is what you make of it. Rain and all. I just would be a much happier Kristina if we had a little less rain and a lot more snow. But I’ll admit defeat – for now. You win this round weather gods. Here’s hoping a few more folks break out their dancing shoes to bring the snow.
