skateboard per bambini piccoli con manico

Skateboard per bambini piccoli con manico full#

Fortunately hope is a lure that can be cast again and again. It was hard to scratch together ‘awesome’ from this adventure. If not for the greater project as a whole, I would’ve never skied here, but to be fair, what I love about projects is that any prerequisite belief has little bearing on reality, at least usually. Overall it’s low-lying terrain and that rarely squirrels away diamonds that skiers love such as alpine, steep terrain, beautiful forests, etc. Throughout the route there is a combination of thick forest, open forest, and logged forest. Firstly, the Crystal to Stampede Traverse has been a section of the Cascade Crest Traverse (a route between Baker and Rainier) that I’ve put off completing for years and that has much to do with the terrain and the fact that half of it has been logged. I’ve alluded to this traverse in unfavorable terms a few times. Ski traverses are fish ponds for growing all kinds of thoughts. I could be all philosophical and say, “Life is yours – live it.” Or even double down and shamelessly wax, “Passion is a path and if you never walk down it, you’ve never lived.” But how gratuitous.

Skateboard per bambini piccoli con manico full#

Am I the kid who loved superheroes and even though I’d grown up, now has a room full of superhero toys which he collects, rarely plays and sells on the internet for a living? Sure, I’m taking photos, writing stories, but I’m just walking with skis. I’m not contributing to global change in any way. Given the weather, the train passengers may have had it right and that ‘idiot’ should not only be a descriptor, but permanently juxtaposed after my name like “Jason the Idiot.” It reminded of when I pondered ski mountaineering from the perspective of others. By then rain had morphed into wet flakes that slapped my hat, melted and drooled down my face, one example of nature’s snot we’d enjoy throughout the day. I blamed my current condition on Kyle, cause he’s uncaring or perhaps even happily oblivious to it.įrom the train to a friend’s car, followed by a few hours driving and we were on snow at Crystal Mountain. I like to melt into a crowd and not make waves if I can help it.

Either way, I felt like I was standing in a clown costume and everyone was being nice enough not to notice, but that’s not true, they saw us and we all knew it! And I disdain standing out. Holy snowflakes, we were catnip to the people watchers! Certainly added up by the 9 to 5ers and concluded to be unusual or to be idiots. There we were in the middle of the city in ski boots, winter clothing and overnight packs. Still, thoughts can’t help but travel the wayward currents of the greater goings-on of the world, the power of news outlets and the terrible price of fear in creating policy in order to indoctrinate safety based on some primordial soup of lies we’ve conjured a million times throughout history and, basically, like Kyle’s chances of turning his splitboard into snowboard mode, I’m afraid that “We’re fucked.”īack to waiting for the train, I looked at the surrounding people. My challenges then are attainable and practical, easy to fjord and that’s a happy medium – and a necessary one for my own sanity and well-being. Perhaps it is our own tribalism that hardwires humanity to protect their own or whomever their ‘own’ is defined as, from different? In whatever case, with today’s tensions rising the world over, I’m happily content to disconnect from our ‘wired’ existence and trudge through forest and snow. Complete idiocy to be sure, but there’s a darker truth that we all know and are well aware of, but choose to ignore. Cut the wheat from the chaff and you are pure and healthy. Prejudice is humanity’s gold standard in dealing with fear. But so goes the rollercoaster of humanity and their pestilence on their own success. Since the 1930’s, Kent has grown to become one of the bigger industrial cities in the state, roughly translating to “…completely paved the hell over!” On top of being a loss to the Japanese community, it sheds light on a dark time in American history. During World War II, their land was seized by the US Government when they were forced into internment camps.

At the time, the land was predominantly owned by Japanese. Prior to the 1930’s, the region was farmland, and among the best fertile soil in the world, due in part to the Osceola flow from Mt. While waiting on the train station landing, Kyle lectured me on Kent’s history.