The J Hole Incident
My new jhole
Come winter, everyone in Seattle hibernates. I wasn’t so tired, so each new year I put all my stuff in my car and work remotely from Narnia: always winter, never Christmas. And by always winter I mean pow with 5% water content; not those chunder muffins ski in the rain business. So after a couple years of Kirkwood at Tahoe and getting Utarded in park city/canyons and snowbird, my snow buddy Jonathan convinced me to check out the cowboy pow in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. The clever Seattlites realized that if you take out the “ackson” you’re left with a JHOLE. Right on. I can do that. And I did.
I hiked up peaked point to beg the great muther teton spear rock for more snow.
After my traditional put life in box / drive to Mt Bachelor in Bend, Oregon / pass out in a chair or jacuzzi NYE / party with your friends before you don’t see them for a few months, I busted it from the middle of nowhere Oregon to the middle of nowhere Idaho potato Wyoming to catch the gnar storm (I heart big dumps ya know). Arriving post midnight while Jonathan was at work, I walked around delirious from the 14 hour drive looking for our digs in Driggs and trying to understand the goog mapless street address of small town. At this point I am trying to decide if its worse to get shot or freeze to death in the negativo degrees. Instead I found the house, which has a pony on the door that I will convert to a unicorn, and did some sleeping so I could wake up and ride the gnar. The driest, finest, steepest Jhole gnar!
Okay, so to the point. Day 1 I find John at Grand Targhee and we ride the 3ft pow dump awesomeness. Jonathan takes off to go to bed and I decide that it would be a good idea to jump off the weird little wall that everyone was avoiding. While the board hit the pow and I actually landed the drop, my pants, my long undies, my regular undies and my skin was sacrificed to hidden Teton butt spearing rocks. Cold weather makes it tricky to realize hurt (that your giant gaping rip extends to your person), so 2 hours later in the restroom I got to re-lived my girly adolescence bleeding from strange jholes (do not click unless you really want to see a jhole). Hmm, I bet that’s what those dudes trying to tell me every time I bent over to put on bindings.
At least it was not a giant spearing face rock, and hey, now that I have a bigger meaner scar, my sea-lion bite from diving in the Galapagos will look tiny! So Teton spear rock gawds, I have accepted my jhole, so please send more snow. Or do these come in pairs?
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