Way back when I had some health shit going on, I made goals. Yea, same song and dance as the previous post about the Banked Slalom. But the real GOAL of mine from way back when I took the "red pill" and crawled into the rabbit hole was to not miss going to Baldface this year. It was something I always look forward too and fuels my fire for the entire season.
We reserved the cat once again under the C3 name for the last week of February, first week of March. While it's technically reserved under the C3 name, it's really just a bunch of dudes that get together and go ride pow for a week. For tax reasons, it's a business trip. All along I was "hoping" one of those seats would hold my skinny ass, but I wasn't too confident in the reality of it happening.
Gumby tasked me with filling the 12 seats. "Uh, sure Bob I got it handled" and out went the email to previous dudes that have come with us. 6 seats were instantly filled. The other 6, people were waffling on. "I got a family vacation." "What if there's no snow?" "I can't afford it this year." "My transmition broke and I got to use the money to fix it." "I'm going to Jackson Hole to test bindings with Iguchi and T-Rice." "My penis turned into a vagina...." These were some of the bullshit excuses I got, so I threw it out there: "I'm in, I'm fucking going to Baldface. This is my comeback." Not that I'm a big draw or anything, but the fact that my sorry ass was telling them that I was going seemed to motivate others into getting their excuse making asses in gear and going.
Our cat was full, so it seemed. I just needed to feel better than I was, get my wife's blessing as well as my Doctors permission. At this point I hadn't let any of them in on my drug induced dream of being in a remote location, on top of a mountain, no where around a hospital that could even spell the words "stem cell transplant" never mind know what to do should something go wrong.
On a drive by to one of the excuse laden previous Baldface guests house with Lisa, as we were saying good bye, dude throws out the "how stoked are you? You got a full cat for Baldface, your gonna have a blast!" To which my wife looks at me and says "YOU'RE going to Baldface? Hmmm" And walks into the car. Big mouth mumbles "I take it you haven't told her of your plans to go?"
After 24 hours of silence I tried to explain that it was a pipe dream to go and I was only going if I could. If she was cool with it, if the Doctors were cool with it and IF I felt that I could do it. Which at that point I really wasn't sure.
The Banked Slalom was the turning point for me where I was feeling strong. That and something this dude said to me while filming a family profile on us for Stevens Pass. "Do you ever not ride with your kids?" "Uh...not really." And I really haven't in the last few years. It's always following their asses around, showing them places, shooting them, encouraging them while their ability discourages me about my lack of ability, and pretty much stopping to watch them get after it. I kinda needed to just go out and get after it myself. So with my wife's blessing, me feeling pretty strong and not telling my Doctor what I was doing, I was off to Baldface for the 6th time in my life.
The crew was all time: 5 of our reps, 2 retailers, a ex CEO of a 300 million dollar action sport company, women's Transworld video part of the year winner, the inventor of snowboarding, Coal Brad and I. Enjoy the photo's that came from 4 days in paradise.
Funny that this sign was next to Starbucks by Brads house because we were on our way to invade CANADA.
Sweaty was dressed for suck-sess with the denim shirt and Birkenstockzzzzz.
The bird is the word. Heli flight up with Klocker and Call-In.
Helicopters, snow cats and snow mobiles, this place is as green as it gets. Use it or loose it.
Bacon training, I mean beacon training. Baldface does have some amazing bacon though. They have a couple Traeger grills up there that they smoke that pig with. Mmmmm, bacon.
This is what my legs look like after a day of riding. Chemo legs.
Apres ping pong is as fun as apres booze.
Baldfaces Uber vehicles. There's a fixed rate for each one of these too.
Jeff Pensiero and Desire Melancon playing a few tunes for us. They're not good enough to play with Butt Trumpet yet.
The view from above.
If you owned all these decks and lived up here, you'd be Spring BROKE.
Cat track runs at Baldface can be just as fun as regular runs. Not really, but sort of. Racine is probably complaining that the slopes are too crowded and he'd rather be back at Yawgoo.
Shfack Night Hawking.
Kind Bro with his $20 goggles and $4,000 smile.
I call this my cancer carve.
The crew, nothing but good times. Thank you EVERYONE.
There's a vid in the works. Of course.