It's that time of year again...

That's right lads and ladies, the days of ski swaps, video premiers, and stadium big air comps are here.

However, saying that, and stopping there, seems to me to be a short-cutting statement of something so redundant and cliche'. A sort of half assed attempt at truly describing the creaping alure of the upcoming winter. The alure that at some point for any avid skier or snowboarder seems to "come upon" each of us at the perfect time. The timing itself has either come upon you already, or will be arriving sometime soon.

There seems to be something inexplicable to it, something spiritually moving that goes deep, like some memory long forgotten (the smell of your grandparents house?) that seems to arrive so quickly that you can almost smell or taste the time and place. For us in the Fall season it begins with that oh so elusive scent that seems to be bourne of the nip we feel in the dry morning air. It's that sharp, poignant, feeling of being paralleled with what is to come, the mystery and severity of the incoming cold and distant storm clouds waiting dangerously to brew above the Pacific and pour down upon us all in a seemingly endless reality of Pow, Desire, and heart tromping adrenaline. The physical pleasure of living life itself, whilst ripping through earth herself, creating high speed slashes in the wilderness perfection of a snow smothered mountain forest.

But like i say, its so much more than that. Something inexplicable.

Ah yes. Mammoth, oh Mammoth, how i miss you so. The mountain bride of my early manhood who was unveiled before me daily saying, "Have me Luke, come, carve your name in my bosom."

Haha! But seriously, I truly love that mountain.

Small rant, pardon me. The bottom line is, I guess, that "Here we go again." headlong into the frightening and beautifully unexpected.

As Sammy would say, let's "Let er' buck!"