“To the season that never came – I bid you adieu”
As we strapped in at the top of the Parnasso lifts, looking down on the barren resort, I couldn’t help but wonder why the season had only just poked its head round the corner this year. We hadn’t brought them a sacrificial virgin, or spent countless hours meditating to the vibration of the mountains. Did we miss a message? The signs were there, but we didn’t listen.
Fuck it. If the gods give you lemons… build a jump.
We buckled in for one last shred and sent it stupidly high, over the dragons that lurked below. Bellonia, George, Andoni, Yiago, Snowjim, Dimo, Sergio and the rest of the crew took turns hitting the beast until we were tired and hurt.
We knew only the healing waters of Thermopylae could reverse the symptoms of excessive stoke. We bravely tuned in to the stench of rotten eggs and let our bodies melt in the hot green waters.
See ya later winter…