Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Ski Racing and a Taste of What's to Come

Another awesome weekend!

Friday night started in an inconspicuous Audi A3 when a couple Russian guys picked me up to go to the bar.  I took a seat, and after some broken but engaging conversation the driver (who is a local DJ) cranked the stereo.  Then we drove for a bit, talked and drank, stopped at burger king, and went home.  It ended equally as inconspicuously.  Lame ending +1

I woke up early on Saturday morning to hop on the ol' train.  I was off to participate in my first ski race ever!  Special thanks to the Hofmann family for inviting me along!

I'd never been at such a quaint (read: tiny) ski hill.  There was one T-bar and one run, and one race course taking up half of said run.  I geared up and took a few practice laps before donning my borrowed race garb:




A German national team ski suit!  Lookin' [insert word of choice here], I took to the slopes once again to shred some gnar:



I placed mid-pack for the individual competition, and discovered I have a metric shit-ton to learn about ski racing.  However, our group of 4 skiers claimed 1st in the combined time section!

Another lesson learned:  wear more than a T-shirt under a skin-tight ski suit in -15 degree weather.  "Brrr" is an understatement.


That night we went out to a Fasnet (Black Forest Carnival) party in an ancient basement beside a church.  Warm costumes were the name of the game that night, and the frigid temperatures meant a weak attendance.  Entertainment for the night consisted of a decent dance floor and about 50 guys running around in American Football uniforms (apparently a German player was in the Superbowl).

 Ancient cellar ambiance

Dance floor behind some guy I don't know

On Sunday we drove a whole 90 seconds to the toboggan hill near Flo's house.  We built a little kicker and set up a couple boxes for a Sunday afternoon session.







Evidently brilliant people come up with brilliant ideas while packing up (Due to my plans to be able to have children in the future I chose not to participate):



Crazy Germans.  No different than crazy Canucks. 

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