Skiing with my friends at Mammoth Mountain, California |
|
| (Please excuse the quality of these photos. They're captured from videotape.)
Bongo guy on
Saint Anton's Run
Whee! |
|
| Getting silly!
Bongo guy is playing mama duck, with ducklings in tow. |
|
| From left to right-- Doug, Ryan, Sue, Ken, Karen, Art, Dean |
|
| Sue ("Sueski") provides our best crash of the day |
|
When one of our dear friends crashes, do we stop to offer assistance? Nooooo! We engage in a cruel, heartless tradition, which we call "SPLOOSHING." The object of splooshing is to spray the hapless victim with snow, just to add to the victim's humiliation of having fallen down. It's ever so cruel, but we've been doing it for so many years, that we just can't help ourselves. Sometimes, however, the sploosher pays for his cruelty, when the sploosher becomes the splooshee. |
|
| Robin is soon to fall victim to a viscious Bongo guy sploosh attack. This looks hazardous, but we exercise care in our cruelty. We haven't had a sploosh-related injury (except to egos) in our 18-year history of splooshing. Besides, you lose points if you make contact with the victim, which keeps us from getting too close. |
|
| Here, I'm nearing the completion of my sploosh.
As you can see, a layer of snow is being deposited on my victim. Hee hee hee! |
|
| Ah-- another successful sploosh.
Robin now has a healthy snow deposit.
And no, I'm not impaling her with my pole. It's just an illusion. |
|
| Well-- what goes around comes around. Ken, in the black, has just splooshed both Robin and me.
I use a straight-in splooshing approach. Ken, on the other hand, does a 60-degree left-to-right cross sploosh, developing tremendous snow pressure and height.
In the photo, I've drawn an arrow pointing to an object, which is flying through the air. The flying object is my pair of sunglasses!
Ken's sploosh was so powerful that the snow knocked my glasses clean off my face, totalling the frames and popping the lenses out.
But hey-- I deserved it, right? |
|
| Bongo guy is preparing for another tradition of our group-- racing down the chute on the backside of Chairlift #3 (now called "Face Lift"). We go barreling down the chute and then up the mountain near the "Climax" ski run.
We each try to get as high up as possible on the mountain before we run out of momentum.
Wax sometimes helps, though it didn't quite do the trick, this time. On this particular occasion, Ryan won. Hmmmph. I'll beat him next time. |
|
| Here, Ryan demonstrates the technique used in teaching blind children to ski.
Robin is fully sighted, however, even after being splooshed by several of us. |
|
| 
|
Above: Bongo guy near Chair 12 |
|
Left: Bongo guy on St. Anton's |
|
| |
| |
