When the cable car is busy, being stood in the middle doesn’t leave much of a view. However, in a crowded journey yesterday, with nothing else to see, I was interested by the detail of a ski helmet worn by the lady in front of me.
It contained everything it seems except a head, but easy to forget I suppose, if not screwed on. The time was of course that few people wore a helmet. How long ago has it been now, maybe ten years?
Back then, those wearing a helmet stood out from the crowd. Quite quickly things changed, so now anyone without one must be viewed as a dangerous radical. Mrs IS took the plunge three years ago and nagged (I am sure that’s the correct word, but I must check with the Boss) until I succumbed as well. Now it’s second nature to wear the thing.
The helmet did come in useful quite quickly in fact. Only days after I started wearing it, I was boarding the lift at Wixi when someone tried to close the barrier. The lift footrest caught me a glancing blow on the temple and all the earlier nagging was justified in a moment.
What can I say about today? Well the guide dog with good local knowledge I mentioned a while back would have earned its keep again. Visibility this morning was terrible and I had a couple of impromptu trips into some deepish off piste. The first time was near the top of Lager, which is my usual spot to become lost in the fog, so nothing to worry about. The second time was near the top of Black Rock, which did concentrate the mind a bit more.
In the afternoon, the weather cleared a little to the extent that the guide dog would have been stood down. A mainly foggy day brought 10,632 vertical metres in 22 lift rides.
Idle thoughts from a mountain 