I had just sloppily cut my way through deep, steep powder with burning legs at the end of a ski day--descending a hill with a lift that ascends into windless, yellow clouds, and intimidation--and while the magical end-of-day powder exposure was surreal as mentioned before, Cary can't help but say, hey, your hair looks funny 'cause there's these crinkly, spidery little frozen strands shooting out from your helmeted head. But look at that grin! (Time to burn him a bit since he forwarded me this photo; still love ya, babe) World's longest sentence? Yup.
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