My religion teacher from last year made this comment, "I couldn't see myself looking down a mountian on a pair of wooden sticks attached to my feet." Ahh, but I could. Skiing. I love it. The cold wind whistling past, the high-speed thrill, the twist and turns over the moguls, and the occasional fall on the double diamonds. Living in Maine, I have become quite an avid skier, and it being October, almost November, I already itch to feel the weight of the the skis on my feet. Skiing. It's in my blood. Soon I'll be nothing but a cloud of snow powder.
Wooden sticks indeed!
J Kuhl Signing Off
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