Whaleback Skin

It started doing a really weird thing in Hanover this week; it started snowing, almost a foot. So over my complaint of the flu that I caught after the woodsman's competition at McGill, Hannah and I woke up early to skin up Whaleback, a local one-lift ski hill that doesn’t open on the weekdays. I was happy to be out, chugging along until about halfway up, when I started to feel awful. The king of awful when you don’t know whether you want to throw up or curl into a ball. Rory, another friend, looked over and asked if I shouldn’t be in bed. After a long struggle with my inner demons (or the common flu), and after sitting down in the middle of the slope while telling the crew to push on, I got back up and proceeded up the slope. After that initial struggle and after poaching an untracked run with pow, I felt a lot better. Well enough, in fact, for two more laps.