Roller ski therapy

9 Apr

There I did it again. Went skiing early on a trail prepared yesterday afternoon. One, maybe two people had skated over it in the heat of the day. The result was a virgin white canvas covered in five centimeter deep, rough edged, ski catching slashes.

Going over this hard-frozen artistry this morning my thoughts were hate hate kill kill. Not good for my already misanthropic penchant. It’s psychologically revolting when someone else’s pleasure fucks up your fun, but even worse when it wasn’t their pleasure but their misguided, dogged, slow, pole-hauling drudgery that makes your life unlivable.

What to do? Maybe meditation can stop me getting angry? Happily the last offender finally took the trail down toward Gøryahytta and I got some peace and glide. He, on the other hand, probably went right through the ice. And his dog which had stopped to piss every 5 meters is surely diabetic and will die soon too.

I nearly came to my own bitter end coming back down the mountain. On the rocket fast icy track you shouldn’t dream of half-ploughing. The skate slashes are right there to grab a tip and send you tumbling over the concrete-hard, rough snow. My survival strategy was to stay in the track and just try to be unaerodynamic.

Maybe I should focus on roller skiing now. But then there’s the cars, the three abreast pram promenaders, the gravel AND THE DOGS… Please stop me before I skewer something two or four legged with a ski pole!

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