Park City c'ont.

I failed to mention a few important key points from our Park City vacation.  First and foremost, Chris partially tore his MCL.... at least that is the diagnosis we came up with.  The one day we had to ski, Chris and I hit the slopes first thing at The Canyons Resort.  Basked in sunshine and a 100" base, the morning runs with the rest of the Cikanek/Miller posse we awesome.  Charlie, Lonnie, Dave, Nate, Matt, Chris and myself were having a blast trying to fit in as many runs as possible before our 1 PM departure time.

Chris was cruising down a fast groomer, hit a small rut, shifted his weight to turn out and suddenly heard a "POP."  As soon as he got down to the lift Chris was ready to leave immediately.  I felt terrible for him-- we were having so much fun.  On the way back to the hotel we stopped at Wal-Mart and picked up a hinged knee brace.  So a piece of spandex,  little ibuprofen and a few Captain and Cokes made the wedding an enjoyable (pain free) experience for the Willis-Monfortons.

Secondly, I no longer belong on double black diamond ski runs.  As the group formed to ski for the morning, Nate was insistent on heading up to the very top of The Canyons (Lift Nine Ninety).  Fairly confident in my ability to ski well and get down from pretty much anything, I thought we would be playing in some fairly deeper snow in a wide open steep.  NOT THE CASE.  Trees and moguls made up this part of the mountain, both things skiers should avoid (sorry Jonny Moseley).


Long story short, I pretty much rolled down the first 300 feet of the run while the rest of the guys cruised down without a hitch.  Chris had to wait for me; it was so embarassing.  Either I have to get my head outta my ass when it comes to improving my technique, or just avoid challenging terrain all together.


The most important piece of the Park City puzzle involves a legend by the name of Charlie Goes.  I will sum up Charlie's legendary status with two words: Dance Off.  Enough said.