Waaaaaadddddduuupppp, what's happenin'

You know what this is...

...it's a celebration (kidses)  !!!

Fisherman: "We caught a couple big fish today," as he holds up a ginormous 35-lb trout.  "We got a bigger one in the back."  Then he says, "I'm afraid to go between the islands cause of the currents and soft spots, but out here we've still got 5 feet of good ice."

Awesome.

Pit-stop picnic.  Alex and I recently spent all day on the ice.  In windbriefs the majority of the time.

Pressure ridges like these can soar overhead.  The folds in the ice on either side form deep trenches of water - at least pole-length deep.  

I'm not going to BS anybody and say that skiing in Yellowknife in the spring time is difficult to explain, because, in fact, its quite easy.  

Get in a comfortable standing position, eyes closed, and get someone to read this to you in slow, soothing tones:

Imagine you are scantily clad, skis on your feet, poles in your hands.  You feel the heat of the sun on your skin and hair.  A warm breeze gently caresses your body.  You feel a refreshing chill emanating from below.  The hot and the cold meet in perfect harmony. 

Imagine your eyes springing open, nice and wide.  Initially you are blind.  You slide your inuit bone-snow-goggles, or normal sunglasses or what have you over your eyes.  You look down and perceive that you are standing on a surface of pure white.  It's razor sharp and sparkles like freshly polished diamonds.  

Looking around yourself, you realize that it meets the bright blue horizon in every direction.  A portion of the horizon is lighter blue than the rest, baby blue.  The blazing sun that lights this side of the world slightly more than the rest draws you towards it.  Instinctively, you start skate skiing.  You are shocked at the immediate speed you achieve.  Your limbs move effortlessly, your skis' edges catch the perfect amount of this odd white platform to propel you forward sans resistance.  Every push is perfect.  There's no need for balance adjustments.  You are moving faster than your tailwind, generating this new, equally light headwind that is a welcome respite to the intense heat generated by the sun in this convection oven.  Time and thought drift aimlessly about as you skim speedily through this surreal environment.  Surely it's a hallucination.  Perfection like this simply cannot exist.  "Or can it?" you wonder as you plant your pole tip between your skis and sheer the skin off your torso on the infinitesimal diamonds at your feet and are left in stinging agony for the next 5 days.  

Shake your body out.  Slowly awake from this odd dream.  Look over at your buddy, the narrator and snap out of it.

If done correctly, there should be blood all over your chest, haha.  

See y'all in Yellowknife in a future springtime.  

T