"You're not looking at the jump," Tim said. "You're looking at the landing."
To which we all turned around and were looking straight into the side of a gigantic limestone rock with a bit of snow on the top...some 25 feet above us. "You jump...that?" I asked. "Over this entire run we're on and into the chasm about, oh, say 40 feet down?"
"Well," he said, "only when there's a bunch of fresh powder."
Folks, I don't think I'd do it if I was thrown off the rock. I'd kill myself on the way down!
Ziggy and I also have been finding our share of eateries around town, like Fire & Ice (think Mongolian BBQ, Tahoe style!), a Texas BBQ place right across from the gondola (sorry D.B., no Kansas BBQ sightings yet) and a pretty good Mexican restaurant right down the block. We won't mention the we-think-its-gay place right across from the Blue Angel, where I find myself this afternoon typing this new blog.
Why am I not skiing or teaching today, you ask? Well, with our lack of snow of late, I was walking up to work yesterday and slipped on some ice. (They don't believe in salt out here. Everything is "Keep Tahoe Green" so it's all for ecological reasons.) Felt a twinge in my back but didn't think much of it. Then when I was putting my ski boot on, YAZOWIE! That hurt. I've spent most of the past two days keeping my legs elevated and ice on my back. Might be ready to go back to work tomorrow. Otherwise, I'll be off till next Wednesday.
The music scene is sporadic around here. There are good acts playing for the holiday weekends, like this weekend, when Dave Mason and Marc Broussard are in town. Dr. John is here at the end of the month, and Smokey Robinson, Styx, Reverend Horton Heat and Taj Mahal in February. So is Tony Orlando sans Dawn. The sun must've set on those two. Ha! I'm killing myself here. See some of you back in Chicago this weekend.
Lastly is a video I recorded of all the peeps ice skating on Christmas Eve out here. As you can tell but my "spirit," the spirits were flowing early and often that night! Enjoy.