We're talking about the moment the lift starts to spin on a powder day after you've been waiting in line since 5am. It's when you get up to speed on a face and feel the snow take over as it lifts you up to a cloud-like hover.
When your edge digs in just right and you feel your skis snap back like a rubber band, throwing you into the next turn, as if the planks had minds of their own.
It's looking over at your mates bombing down beside you and knowing they're in the same state of elation. The hoots and hollers that bounce off the slabs, rise from the trees and echo in the bowls. That mutual understanding and constant questioning "how did we get so damn lucky?!"
It's that feeling. It's born of a love for the mountains and the passion that we foster. It's a larger-than-life emotion found in a humble second of sheer joy. And the truly beautiful thing about that feeling, is that we'll never quite find the words to accurately explain it, but you all know what we're talking about.
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