Maybe some recency bias here as I just went, but there’s something so freeing about flying down a mountain on 2 planks of wood. It feels like the intersection between life & death. Why is it that in order to feel alive, we (I) must feel death’s haggard breath ?
lived there for 4 years in college and i miss it a lot. the thing about living in a state with a long, harsh winter is that spring is so fucking cathartic
last weekend i went to vermont to go snowboarding for the first time since moving to the east coast. i went alone besides Bun-Bun and Bobsled the Bison. they are the best guys and i love them very much. i had a really wonderful time and met an older guy at a bar that told me to text him when i come back so he can ski with me. it was really a sweet time and now i want to live in vermont. if you get the chance you should go to vermont
