I am old, whiskered, and fat, but I can still ride!

Just after New Years 2015, two friends and I drove south from Toulouse to the Principality of Andorra to spend three days skiing and boarding in the mountain passes there. It is like the whole country turns into a Ski basecamp for the winter – there were lifts everywhere, the back-country is patrolled, the apres-piste activities available swing from shopping for Lux goods, to a tame evening in front of a fire, to hedonism at the Irish corner in Pas de la Casa. The groomed slopes were really well maintained and the lifts were great.

I took it easy on the first day, being a grandpa and all, but I got some really good riding in: a few small jumps, a couple of really fast descents, and one aerial 360 just to prove I still could. After the 1st day of riding, I noticed that my boot soles were de-laminating, but figured they would be good for the rest of the weekend… Nope. They came apart as I was walking to the 1st lift the next day. Dammit. I had to go and rent boots for the rest of the trip. The only ones available were either 1 size too small or 3 sizes too big. I crammed my toes in the little ones and didn’t lace them too tight. All was good until about an hour later when I busted the toe-strap on my left binding – DAMMIT!! I made a MacGyver worthy repair that lasted the rest of the weekend, but I will need to get a new strap before I ride again in February.

The second day it was on and I hopped on a few technical routes, popped over jumps and bumps, bombed down hills, and threw snow with my board edges like a champ. We had an amazing dinner at a local place that was a converted mountain house/barn where they cooked all our food over hot wood coals: a perfect end to a day of fine boarding!

All told, I ended the trip with broken boots, a wonky binding, and a big smile! I was so glad to be on my board again and if I may say so myself, not too shabby for an old-guy!  We ended the trip with no serious injuries and I only had a single bruise – on my butt. A kid went down hard directly in front of me at the foot of a lift – I had to either bail ass first or hit him and I chose the former.

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Side Note:
Stamps-With-Foot stayed home and snuggled the puppies as sitting on a cold ski-lift is her own personal version of Hell, but she said the pictures of us were pretty. I am grateful to have a wife that doesn’t fuss when I go outside and play. 🙂