Dear Dad

Thank you so much for those skis you gave to me before you moved to Virginia.
I set them to the side in the large shed to 'do' something with them after I got a pair of proper cross country ski boots.

Well, a few years went by and I sort of forgot all about those yellow skis. Then my interest in cross country skiing peaked again and I grabbed those skis and had new bindings put on. I'd purchased some back country skis that were shorter and wider for breaking trails.
But somehow they didn't satisfy my want for those long strides and glides.

Those Epoke 1000's did the trick.
Today I did my first long trek in years. And nothing beats a pair of good ol' fashioned Nordic skis. In fact...Vintage Skies!

Dad you would have laughed when I decided I could go down a hill and make a quick turn and go over a culvert. Um. I ended up on my ass in the snow on the other side of the culvert. The Vintage skis don't have the edges for turning like the newer ones. But I didn't mind as I was never great at that anyway and I wouldn't trade these skis in for anything.

I finally got on a good track and then those skis really performed. Long strides, long glides, lots of boot slapping lift. Just me, blue skies, puffy clouds, and the swish of skis through the bright afternoon.

I had the place to myself which allowed me to comment aloud to you how cool this was and how you would like the trail. And... how much I missed you.
Glide glide glide...slide.

All that beautiful snow and 9 miles of groomed trails.

"Dad you would like this place. We could go skiing on a full moon night like that time we went around Half Moon Lake." 

I stopped at Star Valley. My 'map my walk app' had told me I'd gone about a mile and a half.
I still had to keep track of my time. My goal was to do about 6 miles, but my legs were telling me that 4 would be good.

"Look at that Dad! Wouldn't we love to take this and break our own trail?"
That was not Dad's favorite thing to do, but I would have gone first.

"Dang it. I miss you. And I think you would absolutely love this place in the winter."

I doubled back and headed out towards the partially built dam. I know the ski trail went around it and rejoined the Old 131 Trail.

The 'tick tock' of the clock said I needed to get home and get ready for chores and make supper.
I took a side trip through the woods and then stopped in my tracks.

I simply was enjoying myself too much.

Vintage yellow skis
Memories of my father
Trails of fond places