White Island

It's jailbreak time at work ! I flee out the door at noon, and soon reach escape velocity on Century Drive. It must have snowed a foot last night, and the road is coated with a carpet of thick slush near town, turning into frozen clumps as I head towards the snow-park. Within 20 minutes I'm pulling the skis out of the car. Not much parking space, they haven't de-snowed it all yet.

Head Northeast down Wednesdays, breaking trail all the way. Deep some places, but compacted nicely in the open areas. Can barely see the trail-markers : 10 to 15 feet off the ground, some are now just above the snowline. The sun is out and it's a good bit above freezing. I start to lose the trail in a few places, at first subconsciously, then fully aware that I want to be free of its confines. Soon break out into the open field, studded with the tops of 20 foot trees. The wind must have been howling through here, creating a firm packed surface that you can really fly on. I'm powering, floating through, with long moon-gravity strides. All around me is sunshine-dazzled whiteness, and rolling terrain. Free from civilization and responsibility, I exist in an unconnected state, an island of calm. But the dynamic of motion gives it purpose and direction. I'm suspended in this universe in dilated time.

The line of tall trees grows nearer. Must regain the trail on the other side and take it back to the starting point. Hopefully someone else will have broken it through by now, expediting my return. But no such luck, so back to the thick trudging. Slight uphill all the way, get a rhythm going. Looks like I'll be outside the 2 hour lunch window. Back on the main trail highway I now see other skiers. I want to share the wonder of the floating and the island, but no time. Have to pass skiers in the track by going around them through a foot of snow. Heart rate getting maxed out. Is it my imagination or do they push harder when I pass ? No problem, I've still got a bit left in the red zone. And I'm Canadian too dammit, a freaking snow wizard !

A quick stretch and back in the motorized device, pulsing the cylinders back to reality. Small clouds of responsibility start to move in, but no problem, the White Island is there too, anytime I want it.