of the love of the Mountain

it had been a long time since i was in the Mountain, close to six months. i'd almost forgotten what it was all about. it had been years since i had been during the winter. i'd definitely forgotten what that was about. and then i was taken by the hand and led back...
for the past two years it was always in the summer, when the Mountain is almost deserted, or at least people move around so slowly that you don't notice them. but its winter now (or at least as close to Winter as we will get this year).
the Mountain is great, commands respect. it deserves respect - it giveth and it threateneth. i am always in awe anew. but this time it was not the annual skiing excursion. i'd developed a connection with the idea of the Mountain, i've understood that it exists outside the winter playground image that perhaps most people have. it has become part of me. the Mountain might bear different names, but it is always the same connection, the connection to the same idea.
injuries had prevented me from returning for years. even now the required pain was greater than expected. but then there is the Mountain. to just inhale it, to feel it beneath my feet (board), to hear its gusty voice, to feel the threat of its wrath. and to respect it.
hm. somehow i always turn out to be the lone wolf. and this time i also lose all focus trying to return to the Mountain in my head. have i fallen in love? is this an eye opener as to what surprises might still lie ahead... i'm just looking forward to returning in the summer. lone wolves don't like the tourists.