I enjoy walking out of the house in the morning and seeing a fresh blanket of snow on a sunny day. I trudge through the walkway that has not yet been shoveled because getting to the ski area is just way more important. It is lovely in the mornings and the air tastes good when I breathe it. The anticipation I feel while standing in line is such that I cannot even stand still most mornings. The hallways of unbroken snow, created by aspens and pine trees, are all I can think of. Partially asleep, my journey to the ski area feels like a dream, and the next few hours will go by in an instant. I get on the lift, excited for what lies ahead, and in the crisp morning air I pull out my Sour Diesel doober, there is no better way to start the day.
There is something about the way weed tastes when I am skiing. Perhaps it is the setting that has me so receptive to the world around me. A combination of the invigorating mountain air, the endorphins in my body, and the chronic weed that ski towns are notorious for having. I would imagine surfers feel the same in the ocean, as do mountain climbers on the edge of nowhere. In the summer when I go mountain biking I always bring a little with me to have before and after, and let’s just be honest, during the ride too. The unique aromas and bouquets stand out a little more. I do not smoke the ganja as any kind of performance enhancing drug, the high most likely even tempers me from getting too radical out there. In a sense it is actually helping me stay safe, probably why they call it “having a safety meeting”. Cannabis is meant for places like this. Sure, it is fun to indulge in some bong hits and go see a movie, read a book, or enhance a night out on the town but I believe cannabis is best utilized when going on an outdoor adventure.
The muscle relaxation and calmness I encounter when smoking weed allows for better focus and combined with skiing becomes a form of meditation. I reach a state of mind state that allows me to truly let go. My mind is focused on one thing, not to run into stuff. I am not thinking about what I have on the calendar for later, nor am I thinking about what upset me yesterday, I am purely in the moment. A little weed in my system allows me find to that thing that athletes call “the zone”. The high amounts of stress I feel in my life are washed away as I concentrate on getting down the hill.
The high starts in the middle and it vibrates out from the center like my body is carbonated. My senses are responsive, and I am attentive to the universe in motion. I stay mellow, tension can be a risky emotion when skiing. I want to hit every carved out burm I see, and I try to pop off all the different little jumps that come my way. Marijuana helps me loosen up a bit and not be so rigid, something I will want when that next turn makes me tumble and fall for a little ways. It amplifies the enjoyment of the day and I usually find myself goofing off more and more.
Smoking with pals, some whom I only see on powder days, while gliding through vistas of new snow, makes everything fall into perspective. Cannabis is a lovely accompaniment for charging through those mounds of fresh pow. It complements the day so well. It is all about letting go. I have never been this happy in all my life. The world will be waiting for me when I get off this mountainside, until then, let me get another hit of that Diesel.
Photo Credit: Zac Svabek
