Disclaimer 1: These piece of shit photos from my piece of shit cell phone are pieces of shit, but are posted nonetheless due to popular demand here until 666 gets his fucking act together and posts the real TRhttp://www.tetongravity.com/forums/s...ad.php?t=48152
Disclaimer 2: Under no circumstances should you attempt these maneuvers at home.
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HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
I didn't think Saturday was gonna happen for me since Miss Punani had arranged for a "Meet the Parents" weekend. The fact that they flew in from halfway around the world to visit was trumped by one of the sickest days to hit Kirkwood this season, for which I've earned a permanent place in the doghouse.
Who woulda thunk the SF Gay Bridge had a 4:30am traffic jam? Half the cars had skis on the roof.
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Pretty soon it was smooth sailing with the cruise control at 90mph to bail the slacker Shoe out of Folsom Prison
88 was open, so it was another smooth ride to Kirkweed, unless you happened to be the 3,456,783rd JONG driver to get PWNED at the KW access road
Shoe and I joined the line. The brothers Kush were up front, 666, slim and hop were a few in front of us, Splat joins us for a threesome, and Zippy barely escapes liftline-rage from some random kooks.
First up was the funnel that Shoe, Splat and myself hit. Insanely deep face shots every turn and absolutely fucking filth. Billions of flakes billowing brilliantly in the sunshine, a speed run through the drain and met up with Arty
I'd like to send a sh0ut-outz yo, to the hot chick at the line. I would wear that ass like a hat.
Yum yum give me some!!!!
Now you try getting on a chairlift with a throbbing boner.
As we neared the top of the ride, the image of a virginal Wall only made my throbbing boner in my pants throb even more. 10 was rolling and loading, and we pointed it down WW/funnel in a mad dash, whereupon we promptly lost Splat.
Halfway up on 10, we see that Wagon Wheel bowl and ridge is as used up as a whore after Fleet Week. The time was 9:24am
Insanity was pondered....
The crew goes over Wall Ridge. I made a beeline for Once Is Enough, clicked in, 3...2..1....dropping. 0-50 in 4 seconds, big speed burn in thigh deep powder. SWEEEET! I come to a halt, look up, and find that Heart Chute was about to get sessioned more times than SquawMan's mom.
First up was 666 who styled it and made it look too easy.
While the others were thinking of having another cup of coffee, runethechamp launches into his first turn of the morning....and jibs the rock wall then sticks the landing like a champ.
Slim was next and styled it too, before he lost his strap-on pole.
Some random guy was next, and he went for the biggest air, and the most extreme line, with a CRRRRUNCH on landing. While he was gathering his composure, an errant ski comes flying out of heart, narrowly missing his head.
While the peanut gallery gathered to watch this inevitable train wreck, the random skier pointed it and launched heart....and stuck it on one ski. Cheers and Hoots erupted before we headed down and plundered the remaining untouched pow all the way back to 10.
Here's Shoe up to his neck
Eagle Bowl had opened up, so it was high-T time. got some thigh-waist-submarine deep goodness in the heart of LC, dodging avie debris. Shoe sent Kodak (after Kush, AKA & co hit it earlier). I hit the straightline/drop/straightline combo and caught up with Arty on chair 2.
Arty and I drooled over the untouched Tremann's/Soulsearcher area and knew right away what must be done. Here is the view that gets me as excited as that chick with the hot tight ass earlier:
After a ride on the longest slowest chair in The Sierras, we mached down to our target. Arty slays Soulsearcher and gets first tracks. I zoom to the top of Tremann's and was about to launch into it when I hear
"Hey! Stop! I need to do this line! I'm Ian!"
Skiin' Ian (not well liked by patrol, and rumored to have been kicked out of Kirkweed for poaching the Cirque one too many times) was skiing incognito. By incognito I mean, no helmet and a lift ticket flapping on a nondescript jacket.
"Okay man"
"Oh hey Punani! It's you! Please man. I've been looking at this line for 10 years"
"No worries man. take your time."
Skiin' Ian sent the fucker and launched about 80 feet.
Here's the view of one of my favorite lines.
I dropped in through the chute, narrowly missing another slowboarder whose IQ was coincidentally the same as the current ambient temperature. Fucking idiot decided to stop at the runout of Tremann's. Luckily for him I was able to execute a high-speed course correction to avoid mowing him down like a Tiananmen Square protestor.
Arty and I found deep deeeeeep untracked and it was back to the 2-4 circuit.
On the next ride up we were to exchange lines. I hit up Soulsearcher, dropped in, and relaxed too early at the runout, thus overlooking a pre-existing bombhole that sent me on a Superman-eggbeater-yardsale. I heard my entre spine crack, did a quick operations check and picked up my pieces. Arty took the long way round since Tremann's was closed due to someone random guy digging up the runout looking for a missing Pistol.
Another ride up and hit up our secret Stash on Vista, and choked on untouched snow on almost every turn.
Pretty soon it was ack to the frontside with the now-regrouped crew. We learnt that a pissing contest of colossal magnitude went down at Big Jim's between 666, Kush and Shoe. Big Props, gentlemen. We're not worthy! We're not worthy! Splat had left early to take care of unfinished business, and an anonymous ponytailed, pontoon-planked hussy was missing in action.
A pali lap with the remaining crew took place, and we saw that Arty50 needs to sign up for another Gordy camp, preferably one with a group that specializes in proper traverse-wipeout-avoidance techniques
Kush graciously lent me his Nordica Blowers for the pali run and I'm convinced that I must now procure a 110-underfoot ski.
Breakdowns plagued ch 6, and the crew were feeling the effects of the frenzied morning. Beer o'clock came round at 3, and one of the best days of the 2006 season drew to a close, only to live forever on internet message boards and ingrained permanently into the Kirkweed Krew's psyche.
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