The maker's snow

It had just snowed about 14 inches of new snow and it was early season early day
and that meant virgin powder.  And that kind of fluffy snow was an unbelievable draw. I got together my equipment and rushed up to a bridge on the top of a
long ski run that was as yet unopened.  I was in a four wheel drive jeep and I knew I could make it.  I got there and got my equipment on and my finally in no time I had my skies pointed down the long steep slope of a good powder on a advanced skill ski slope.  I
had gotten here quickly and I knew that it was important to do so as the owners of the ski run and the forest rangers did not like this much powder open for skiing.  They preferred that some avalanche control was done higher in the mountains first and that the ski run
was packed down with heavy equipment, the thought being that heavy powder was
too hard and uncontrollable to ski.  Of course I had my own opinions and that was why I was point down the slope ready to fly.

I took off and could not get momentum downward so I kept arching my back and leaning forward until my head nearly touched my feet and that did the trick.  I was soon flying down the slope riding the softest padding imaginable. If one could have seen my face I am sure they would have seen a grin that was as wide as it could get.  My heart was pounding and the joy was immense. I think that at times like this I feel the joy of life that my maker
wished me to feel. 

I was too soon that I came to a bridge that crossed over the slope and made it impossible to continue down.  This was the jumping off place.  I slowed myself and made my way to the far left of the run where I could jump out of my skies and join what appeared to be a pretty good crowd on the top of the bridge.  As I joined the others I could see my mother among the many.  There was also a an Olympic skier, a lady from my town perched there with snow-clothes on and I swear I saw skies hanging from her hand. I was soon talking to the others on the bridge expressing my great joy of just a moment before.  I could also see a forest ranger was making his way to the bridge. 

About the time the ranger came into sight I could see that the lady skier had now gotten her skies pointed down another slope and was ready to take flight.  Soon thereafter she did indeed take flight but this slope was not the slope I had come down and she was soon fighting rushing water and slush and nearly mud. Evidentially the slope was prone to heat from nearby and it was destroying what could be a great slope. I knew it was because of this the ranger was now hurrying over to the bridge while I continued to tell the story of my run and complaining vociferously about the forces that be closing the upper slope when it could
give such joy for some time for many of us. I told one person after the other until I am sure that all of them were sick of me that I disagreed with the decision making.  I begged my mother to drive me to the top of the slope I had come down so I could yet again meet the slope.  She refused. She knew they would be closing it and was not going to support my plans on getting one more run out of it first.