WTF - That Perfect Ski Day

Many consider themselves “snow chasers” spending the winter season in search of the “perfect snow day.” Living in the High Country of North Carolina, I can guarantee that every day here is a perfect ski day.

There are still many that live in our great state that doesn’t realize you can ski in North Carolina, that there are seven ski resorts in the state. That’s not including the tubing resort of Hawksnest that was once a ski resort.

So what constitutes the perfect ski day? Any day on the snow!

You can’t wait for the perfect ski day, you get out there and ski. I have friends that tell me, “I only ski out West.” My answer to them is, “Oh yeah, how many days did you ski this year?”

“4,” they reply.

“I skied 118,” I state. Are the days perfect? Yes! Because I am out on the snow!

“But you can’t ski out West,” they counter.

“Really? I skied another 10 in Utah and Colorado, and guess what, I kept up with the locals just fine. In fact, there were a few days that I was better. You know why? Because my perfect Southern Ski Days sometimes include powder, snow, granular snow, ice, mud, dirt, grass, rocks, and I made it through every single day. A 65-year ski patroller once told me that if you can ski in the South, then you can ski anywhere. I believe that statement!”

But some days can be better than others, truthfully. In Randy Johnson’s new book Southern Snow, he puts together those days that us snow chasers love, the best-kept secret of the Southern Skiing. A storm rolls through the High Country, which starts with rain. Everyone else sees rain, but we watch closely at the temperature after the storm moves through the High Country. If there is a drop in temperature, then the storm will likely end with snow. So while it’s raining, we’re waving and tuning and hit the slopes while everyone else stays home and complains. The perfect ski day!

My perfect day is as close to the first chair as possible. We have an ongoing battle for first chair amongst my friends. The rush to the lift resembles a Who Concert! First thing in the morning means you get the best snow. Freshly groomed, untouched and super fast. We find that weekends are great from 9-11 or so when it gets a little crowded. We then retire to our favorite Mountain Momma’s slope-side house to watch the “flying squirrels” dive down the mountain. What’s a flying squirrel? Usually, someone from Florida, on rental skis, with their jacket unzipped, flying straight down the slope. The unzipped jacket makes them look like a flying squirrel! Most of the crashes at the bottom are harmless but fun to watch!

So get out your board, or your planks, and plan a trip to some Southern Snow. Pad in those perfect days, and include that trip out west, get the best of both worlds!

A side note to those visiting, how to get your perfect snow day. Plan ahead!

If you are driving, rent your equipment ahead of time. There are local ski/board shops that rent equipment, along with several along the way. If you are renting at the resort, arrive early!!  AND I MEAN EARLY!

Ticket windows open at 830am for 9 am lift start. Get to the resort at 8 am and save yourself waiting forever like the people that get here at 9 am. If you are renting equipment, you have to have a lift ticket before rentals. Put one person in the rental line and one person in the lift line. 

How do adults have fun on the snow with little children? All-day Ski/Board School. Snow School is one of the best deals of the High Country. For one set price, you get all-day lessons 830a-400p lunch, helmet, slope pass, instruction, skills assessment, and rentals included. Children are in age-appropriate groups and spent time on the snow in small doses along with playing with friends in the Snow School. Snow School makes the first experience FUN! 

Beech Mountain Resort :

SnowCamp 3-6 years $135/weekday and $150/Weekend

SnowTraxx 6-14 years $100/weekend and $120/Weekends

Burton Learn to Ride 6-18 years $135/weekdays $150/weekends

Or course there is Snowflakes Childcare in the village.

The best part of these packages is the children let out at 4 pm. They can then show you their skills from 4-430p on the slopes!

They do sell these packages online, but they sell out very quickly. 

WTF - Town Council

Who in any earthly idea decided to run for town council? Me, that is! What was I thinking? I announced my run in July and I can't even tell you the number of text messages, phone calls, and emails. But since I love this town I'm doing this and getting ready for my "Meet the Candidates" meeting tomorrow night.

I thought I'd throw a few things out there for you. If I become a Council member, I promise you this:

I'm not changing who I am, you'll still see my same Facebook, Twitter and Instagram Feed. I'm not sharing my Snapchat because I share that one with my boys.

If you see me and run, give me some space. I may have just finished a yoga class and need just a few more minutes of zen.

I thought I'd share some of my favorite politics quotes! Here ya go"

And the most important lesson of all?

Wish me luck on tomorrow's night Meet the Candidates, may I do my community proud!

WTF - Hitchhiking with my Bike

Riding a bicycle anywhere in the high country is a lesson in hills, you choose your route based on elevation gain rather than distance. Which is why I love Hickory Nut Gap Road, not as populated as other local roads and two pretty fun hill climbs (really? does hill climb and fun belong in the same sentence?)

I always liken climbing a hill on my bike to fitting my blanket in the F*king duvet cover. I'm in it for the long haul, this is a marathon not a sprint, I'll make it to the end.

On my ride yesterday, I became one with the granny gear, spinning myself slowly but surely to the top of the hill, wondering if I was going to hack out my left or right lung at the top.  I'm chugging along for what feels like forever when my Biking software says:

"Time Check: Five Minutes, .86 miles"

Wait, what?

I made it to the top then enjoy a nice break descending the other side into Newlnx. A biker pulls up next to me as I'm descending saying, "You don't have to ride the brakes that much, you can let go a bit."

"Uh no, I can't, I'm a Mom, I've got shit to do after this, not hang out in the emergency room." I reply.

Taking a break in Newland, I start back up the hill climbing what I just descending, my legs are like, "What? I thought we were finished?"

"No body, this is a marathon, not a sprint. Just keep chugging." My software keeps reminding me I am lame with a "Time Check, no forget it, you don't want to know."

I make it to the top then with a sigh start the descent again until I feel the front of my bike go into a wobble, prompting me to stop immediately.

Shit, a flat tire.

I pull out my roadside repair kit, thinking "Well the last time I changed one of these was probably 5 years ago and it took me 45 minutes."

I open my kit and it's been raided by gnomes, or children. My CO2 is missing, as well as my tire tool.

I'm screwed. When I call to scream at them all I get is voicemail. Typical.

I move onto plan B, I'll walk the bike to Arbordale Church hide it there, take off my cycling shoes and run barefoot back to my car. It's only 3 miles, just a day at the office right?

Hadn't planned a brick but what the hell? (What's a brick? A bike to run workout, basically your legs feel like bricks at the beginning of the run)

I'm walking down singing Dory's song from Nemo when a car comes by, and this is the family part of my story.

It's an old beat up pickup, with an old dude in it, long beard, and equally old dog.

"You OK?" Thick Southern Accent, dog drooling down side of pickup truck.

"Just got a flat, I'm fine." I was going to add, "And I'm killing my kids when I get home."

"Need a ride?"

Anywhere else I'd think twice, but I'm in the country on a lonely road, an old dude, working clothes, totally safe, right?

"Sure, would you do that?" I ask thinking he's much nicer than the pickup that almost hit me making sure I swallowed their exhaust as they passed.

"Yeah, we're heading to the dump anyway. That's Poncho in the back. I've got my trash in the front because he doesn't like hanging with trash, let me move it so you can have a seat."

"No worries, it's only 3 miles, I'll just ride with Poncho."

Poncho is very excited about the company of my bike and myself, I fold into a corner of the truck with the dog, accept his wet kisses the full 3 miles down to my car. Poncho jumps out chasing some ducks away as the man helps me out, my legs a little jello from riding then sitting cramped in the truck.

"Thank you so much!" I pet Poncho.

"Yeah, I've been there, my buddies and I do Blood Sweat and Gears every year, flat tires suck."

Wait, what? You don't look like a biking dude, mountain appearances are deceiving. I was waiting for him to tell me Poncho won Westminster Dog Show.

So it did turn into a fun hill climb as we exchanged numbers and he added me to his High Country biking buddies.  We's all family, helping out a friend in need, complete with the wet dog kisses.

WTF - Go Tubing they said, it will be fun!

That moment when you wake up during the summer thinking, "Oh crap!  School is just around the corner! Have I made enough memories?????"

Enter tubing, a High Country tradition, a usual bucket list item every summer.

Last summer I took the kids tubing on the New River.  Highlights?
A 3 hour tour, honestly 3 hours!
Dragging the bottom so much I was afraid of pulling a tadpole out of my bathing suit bottoms.
80 degree heat, full sun
Drifting constantly to the trees with snakes hanging out of them
Forgetting bug spray

So why did I go again? The "childbirth theory"

Explanation please.

After your first child, you vow, "Oh my God, I'm never doing that again" forget about it and before you know it you're back in the hospital with the 2nd saying, "Oh my God, I remember NOW!"

So I tucked away the New River memories and set myself up again taking 7 kids and 2 adults with me!

First, I went over to Toe River Lodge because I heard they have a BREWERY and their tours are a more manageable hour and a half.  Usually I can survive anything with children lasting an hour and a half,

Oh, and you can take beer with you.  Taking 7 kids tubing meant yes, I needed the beer AND I think I could survive for an hour and half.

We started at the lodge, sampled beers picking which one we'd take with us in our cute little "howler" a 2 beer plastic growler, piled into a van and drove up the river to our put in spot.

Was this trip like child birth, NO! It was awesome.

The kids all ran down jumping in their tubes, having water fights and generally acting crazy. After ten minutes though since I have a slight weight advantage over them, they drifted just out of earshot on the river. The other couple I was with beached themselves on the first bend getting stuck as I moved out of earshot of them.

I was blessed with quiet drinking beer floating in circles down the Toe River looking up at the sky!

A few things to remember if you are heading to Blind Squirrel Brewery for a beer and a tube:

Plan your trip after a few days of rain, or check the river level, planning ahead for less butt dragging.

If this is a date, give your lady some slack, there is no way looking graceful getting in and out of a tube. (Imagine splaying your legs wide as you throw your butt up falling out the side into the water, wait a minute, that could be someone's perfect date)

Tie your beer to your string tightly adding several knots, I spent five minutes looking like Michael Phelps chasing my howler, but I got it!

Your tube will always gravitate to the sunny rock with the snake. Just send your "please don't bite me" energy as you frantically paddle the other way.

You have to get out of your tube to move it, unless you have gorilla arms, they will not touch the water on either side of you.

The rocks are slippery, hold onto your tube if you stand up, and again give your lady some slack as she falls all over the place trying to get out from the rock garden she got stuck in.

Empty your pockets, empty your pockets. My poor friend over turned getting in losing his knife in the process. Another friend on the New overturned and lost his car keys!

Don't worry about the "what just touched my leg" moments, and don't mind the girlish scream coming from the dude beside you, at least it touched his leg,

Finally seeing that tiny head come out of the water then disappear as you put in your tube simply say, "That was a turtle, that was a turtle, that was a turtle," over and over again until you believe it.

Think about the Toe River Lodge and Blind Squirrel Brewery for your tubing trip down the Toe River, fill your "howler" with great craft brew or apple cider, send everyone ahead and relax on your ride.

The best part, the tubing ride finishes right in front of the Lodge complete with a Restaurant, just in time for lunch. I mean who wants to pick tadpoles out of their sandwich when you can sit on the deck enjoy fresh made local farm food and more craft beer and cider watching everyone else fall in and out of their tubes. I received an "8" from restaurant goers as I got out of my tube!

Next on the agenda: Ziplining with Blind Squirrel.  Think they have a way you can take your howler over there?

For more information or to book your trip here's their website:

http://www.blindsquirrelbrewery.com

WTF - Who Doesn't Love a Small Town Parade

Doesn't everyone love a parade? I've always wished I could be in a parade - not the Homecoming Queen or anything, but march and try out my Prom wave. So when given the chance to march in  the Banner Elk 4th of July parade for Beech Mountain Bike Park, I jumped at the chance.  Picked out my prom dress, pulled out the curlers.

But wait, this parade was not all about me, it was the kids riding their mountain bikes representing the park.  My job is official candy thrower.

Oh well, I'm still in a parade, and will anyone question the prom wave?

The rest of the family was totally excited.

Children: "We're doing what?"  "Is anyone else going?" "Will we look like dorks?"
Hubby: "Where will we park, what about all the people? You're throwing WHAT?"

But off we go to the parade, I'm practicing my prom wave down the mountain.  We follow parade signs, immediately stopped by a security guard.

"You cannot come here, this is for the parade."
"Yes, we have two mountain bikers for Beech Mountain Bike Park."
"Oh, turn here and follow it to the end of march."

End of March?  What is that? I don't want to ask because he looks pretty irritated we are trying to mess up his end of March. We pull down the street, follow the road and find the end of march.

End of March Translation - the end of the parade.

Small town parades are different that Macy's Thanksgiving. The March (I figured this was called the March because we were at the end of March) consisted of little cars with big men in them, two llamas, several tractors, a few old cars, and of course us!

The way the parades work here, you have large bags of candy you throw into the audience as you march, in our case behind the mountain bikers, behind the Beech Mountain Bike Park sign.

The parade starts already there is a casualty, a tractor won't start with a trailer full of sad looking kids eating all the candy they brought to the parade! Several serious looking men bang a wrench around a little bit and with a a huge scream, it starts!  They fall in the line of march behind us, I'm close to tears they made it.

Can I stop here and tell you how much fun it is with a bunch of kids on bikes, telling them to slow down and stay behind the sign?

"Can't I just ride my bike through the sign like a football player?"
"Uh no."
"Just once?"

"Uh no."

"you're getting to close, back up."
"I'm not ahead of the sign."
"Ouch! Don't run over me!"

Am I the only one that gets teary eyed? Was I the only one choking back tears at all the excitement?

Yes? Well never mind.

I get too excited throwing most of my candy at little kids dressed in red, white and blue like a major league baseball player. After a few "OWWWs" I try winding up less and throwing a little softer.

The streets were lined with kids screaming for candy, they were yelling at me! In a parade!

And well, I got all wrapped up in it.

Halfway through the parade my hubby politely informed me, "Honey, you're gonna run out of candy soon if you don't ration."

I look in my bag, Shit! I made the mistake of blowing my candy wad too early in the parade.  It looks like 26.2 miles to the end of the parade! Rationing! Cut my candy throwing way back. I guess I got to excited and emptied my bag way to fast!

So I'm down to acting like I am throwing a piece, then really throwing a piece - A PIECE.

I think I heard one kid remark, "She's probably a dentist."

I moved to hiding in the middle of the pack for part of the parade, hoping people wouldn't see me holding the close to empty candy bag, ration it.

I heard a kid yell, "There she is!  Come on candy lady, throw us some candy!!

I thought about offering the cute little boy in the star striped pants $25 bucks for his big bag of collected candy but figured he'd just ask me for another piece from mine.

I slid over to other candy throwers giving them my sob story, "I blew my candy wad, can you spare of Kit Kat?"

Most look at me going, "Me too! I've only 26 Starburst left, they are going to eat us alive at the end of the parade if we don't have candy!"

Finally I breathed a sigh of relief, the end of the parade was in sight!  I had four pieces of candy left!  I just may make it!  I throw two, pretend throw another four finally giving my last piece to a very cute looking little girl in a red white and blue dress.

Crap!  I forgot to prom wave!

Turning back as they escort us out of the Line of March, I prom wave back to the cheering crowd, savoring their noise, picturing myself coming home from Shuttle Launch 36 to a ticker tape parade.

Who is she? I heard someone ask.

"I don't know, maybe the town dentist, she doesn't know how to throw candy."

So lessons learned:

Your End of March is the end of the parade, literally.
If you want candy, park yourself at the beginning of the parade for all the saps blowing out their candy wad in the first five minutes.
Best parking spot is away from the parade in the direction you want to go, believe me the walk back is worth not waiting in traffic.
Don't be surprised if the parade you attend in a small town includes tractors, riding lawn mowers and possibly a very cleverly dress pig or two.


Oh, and the prom wave goes like this:

Right arm out straight.
Bring right hand up so elbow is at an 90 degree angle.
Cup fingers and bring hand to a 45 degree angle
Gently move back and forth not breaking the degree on the elbow or the straightness of your bicep and tricep.

And smile!