It’s cold, if there’s even a slight gap in my armou of winter clothing I feel it immediately. It’s snowing, the icy flakes sting the exposed skin of my face and stick to my beard, forming a frozen mask around my mouth. Visibility is low, at most some 50 meters before the world disappears in a thick milky fog. Given the circumstances you’d think that I’d be miserable but I’m ecstatic; I’m literally ass deep in soft fluffy powder with a snowboard under my feet and it feels like surfing on clouds. Bloody awesome!… Read the rest
The world is without sound. The soft, fluffy snow beneath my board dampens out all but the wind. It is hard to describe this feeling, the snow is so soft it feels like floating on clouds, yet I cut through it like a knife through sun warm butter. At the same it is harsh, brown reeds and scraping sounds remind me of bumps and ridges and the wind bites in to the skin on my face. There is a kind of flow to it, the softness, the cold and the speed merging to create that special fluid feeling that is … Read the rest
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