Bone clicking cold

Wait, wait.....can you hear it? That Styrofoam squeak that sets your teeth on edge and make your ears tingle. In a second, the legs move the protesting skis over the cold snow, ripping the new wax from their bases.

Skiing fast is almost intolerable. The cold sears small bits of exposed facial skin and creates a ringing ice cream headache.

The rows of moguls are diligently lined up with whipped curly cue tops. Delectable to look at but wind packed into dense ski ripping snow. I gazed at them from the chairlift and decided to take my guy to a spot where I knew I wouldn't end up arguing with an insurance company over an emergency room visit.

As we skied over to a more sheltered chairlift, I wondered if it was possible to frostbite my thighs. They were numb but have the most significant amount of my body fat sheltering them.

Even after adding full size body warmers inside my mittens, my fingers ached with pain. That's good because fingers don't hurt when they are frostbitten.

The visual is interesting. I stayed on my feet during this lesson. (Not always a guarantee.) My client went down a few times, snowing puffing up into his face and down his collar. My core quivered with the cold just watching him.

It was a good day for top to bottom bump runs. We stayed warm...er......ish. The conditions hammered in the need for solid skills. My job was easy.

I figured it was a great lesson.....except for the chilled core until late afternoon. With that said, I wouldn't make a good desk jockey.