Powdericus caninemus...
Tip Of The Day: When you have the opportunity to get a personalized "powder-stash-tour" from a 20 year veteran ski instructor at Steamboat Springs, take it.
Disappearing into the trees, time and time again, where one was a crowd; the thrill of getting lost in the powder tells you to pray while the devil's on your shoulder.
There's something indescribably special about Steamboat. If you've been there you know what I'm talking about. Maybe it's the fact that every time I go there it's either cloudless and 78 degrees, or there's a fresh 12 inches of powder to play in. Maybe it's the Strawberry Park hotsprings looming desolately above town, where nekidness abounds after dark. Not that I would know, of course...
This is the type of photo you get when you ask your buddy to take your "face shot" on a powder day:
"click - alrighty, later!"
Nature has it's own religion and days like this heal the soul...
And I'm turning the pages of January...
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