• open panel

Hundred Days



The Mountain Pulse Jackson Hole

It was pee-before-you-ski cold today, flaunting frigid temperatures that attacked any exposed skin like fire ants. So cold that when my iPod stumbled upon a terrible ghost of listening past—Creed— I couldn’t muster my hand out from my glove to change it. With arms wide open…Under the sunlight… I tried Alfalfa Spritzering my ears, hoping to move them just enough to dislodge the speakers pouring this toxic tune into my helmet. Welcome to this plaaaace…I’ll show you everythiiiiiing. I started praying for my iPod’s immediate death, but to no avail. With arms wide open…WITH AAARMS WIIIIDE OPEEeeeEEN! Four minutes of that could force terrorists out from hiding, white flags flying.

Notwithstanding such haunting reminders of misguided adolescent taste, and apart from the snowboarder who had to be rescued from Granite Canyon because he could not hear his friends’ yells over his earphones, music is great part of skiing and riding.

I can’t listen to a jam without playing it over a daydream, imagining what conditions or what run might best suit it. Heavy, pounding dubstep conjures images of charging Riverton Bowl on a storm day, linking aggressive turns to WOMP WOMP WOMP. Roots reggae invokes carefree, blue bird faceshots down Four Pines, arching deep turns to Bob whaling out: Sun is shining, the weather is sweet, yea. Make you wanna move, your dancing feet yea. Mechanical techno speaks to groomer days, whipping down Slalom to Daft Punk: By it, use it, break it, fix it, Trash it, change it, mail- upgrade it. Classic rock brings me into Moran Woods, threading conifers to Zeppelin: Ramble On, And now’s the time, the time is now, to sing my song. I’m goin’ ’round the world, I got to find my girl.

 Louder than all else, however, must be the outside noise. No matter how rad the jam, you must be able to hear your buddy in the event of an emergency. Keep one ear free. If for nothing else, keep that ear safe from the Creeds, the musical monsters lurking in shadows of your playlist.



One Response to “02/01/11”

  1. “Terrible ghost of listening past”! Man, that’s an instant classic! And how better to exemplify that sentiment than with the band Creed.
    Some bands just embody the worst excesses of an era. Case in point.

    On the radical opposite of that: Robert Plant just the other night at the House of Blues, did a somewhat swampier version of Ramble On, to my great enjoyment.

    Just remember, someone, somewhere, is having the run of his or her life listening to In-a-god-a-divida.
    And that, my friend was a 60″s era prequel.

    • David Winner
Powered By DynamiX