It’s that time of year again: surprise spring powder time! Where the temperature plummets and it dumps with snow for a few days, even as far down as rainy Morzine; my work gets inundated with people wanting hot chocolate, and there’s a flurry of people waking up at dawn, throwing themselves into their cupboards to find their transceivers and go out to have the best damn powder day of their lives, because it’s unlikely to happen again until next year.
You may be familiar with the phrase ‘Panic Shag.’ Thanks for that one, Belle de Neige, you bag of filth. This was definitely the time for Panic Turns, Panic Drops, and Panic Shots, or for me it was, anyway.
Everyone must have experienced the feeling, when it comes towards the end of the season, of realisation that there’s a lot of stuff left still to achieve, whether it’s a drop that you’ve been eyeing up all winter, hitting a certain feature or landing a new trick, and there’s VERY LITTLE TIME TO ACHEIVE IT!
And we all go a bit crazy, and maybe try things that are a bit beyond our ability level. This is what I did last week, when I realised that I’d wanted to film some powder this winter, but due to my own laziness, and the cameraman going away, I had done nothing. TIME WAS RUNNING OUT. So we went up to do a morning’s filming; there was hiking, double ejecting, freezing cloud, a lot of ‘are you ready’ phone calls and this was the peak of the day:
I tried it a couple of times, and I didn’t land it, but I didn’t really mind, because I’d been wanting to do it for a while, and that was my ONLY CHANCE to do it and get it on film. (Plus that still got heaps of likes on facebook, which everyone knows is the judging platform for how awesome your life is. LOL #didijustsaythat?) Two days later, it’s balmy and warm and spring-like again, and we can all breathe a sigh of relief, knowing we made the most of surprise spring powder time, but secretly hoping for another dump before the season’s over.