A perfect Saturday

"Sometimes you need a day off from all obligations."

"Funny, a very conservative Christian response came to my mind: 'God
never takes a day off'.'"

"Ah, but he did, that is one story I remember: he rested on the
seventh day."

"Yeah, whatever happened to that seventh day of rest? It should go
back to Saturday as it was; Sunday is too preoccupied with getting
ready for Monday."

"Saturday is the day of rest. The day for me."

"Saturday is errands."

"No. Errands are to be done after church, before prepping for the
workweek. Saturday is the day for just you."

What better way to spend a Saturday, especially after the day of
unexpected anger eruption and a first week back in the classroom,
than on Mt. Baldy with my new adventure companion: Zora (as well as
some real life ones with whom I had the above conversation).

The perfect Saturday.

5:39 am My quickly adjusted body clock wakes five minutes before
workday alarm time.

5:40 am My thankful body and mind fall back asleep.

7:40 am Meditation (a bit short and a bit distracted, but not bad
after a week of lapsed meditation).

8:10 am Put up coffee, make breakfast, ingest both over reading
(normally I would stretch this portion of the Saturday out as long as
possible).

8:40 am Dress, gather snowboard and necessary gear.

8:55 am Run across street to grocery store for granola type bar for
which I made a special trip to Trader Joe's last night and neglected
to buy once there.

9:10 am Calls from E and C, one arriving, the other running late.
Run up to apartment, get last of the coffee, gather gear, head down
stairs.

9:40 am Attach straps to rack on car, cannot figure out how to secure
board, put it all in the back and head out. Get great advice from
my partners in recreation about day of anger dilemma. Feel anger
dissipate like the smog of LA transforms into clean mountain air as
we climb the road from the 210 to the Mount Baldy Parking lot.

This time, there is no snow lining the snaking road, no cars parked
along every curb. I question if it is really Saturday.

11:00 am Park, gear up.

11:15 am "Don't even bother," warn a group of boarders coming down
the slope from the lift.

"Really, there's nothing."

"A lot of slush."

"Even on the beginner's slopes."

"Oh, those have a bit, but the advanced runs are all rocky, " one
guys works to take off his pass. "Here, make it look unbroken and
use it."

We debate, check prices. We're here. We should go up. The air,
the views beckon us. The possibility of even a little practice is
enough for me. We go. As the wind dances through the canyon, I pull
up my hood, thankful I bought this new jacket (brown with a fuzzy
pink interior) as the fifteen minute ride eases us into the peace and
timeless of the mountain. The trees sing like ocean waves, stilling
the noise of my mind.

12:00 pm Arrival. The snow is sparse. I wait, cooled by the wind
and warmed by the sun, as my friends rent their gear.

The next three and a half hours:

The first run frustrates (seems to be my typical first run) and,
today, disappoints. Patches of snow dot the slushy slope. I
struggle to find the stance, the balance, the coordination. My
skier companions seem to fall less. The slush piles on the board too
easily, catching the front edge. The falls are soft, but too wet.

Too warm, I remove a layer and head inside to the locker. I readjust
my boots, my gloves and head out again.

I make it considerably far before a fall. I relax into the gliding
and am mastering the 'falling leaf' glide to the bottom. I learn to
follow the hill and surf over now growing large puddles. The ski
lift boarding and disembarking grow easier, though not completely
graceful.

The slush increases. The going down the hill is slow. Now, falling
is not a problem as I work to get the board to just move. Somehow,
once moving, I am so relieved I forget all else. I get to the bottom
and am able to almost maneuver a toeside turn to steer myself onto
the catwalk toward the lift. I make it half way before the slope to
right forces me to remove the second foot. This time I make it off
the lift without a fall. Another run down the slope as I continue
this process, another fall-less leaving from the lift chair.

I take a bit of a break, which allows my friends to catch up to me
(or me to them -- it is difficult to determine when going in
circles). We glow with the snow, sun, air, and movement. I
realize I just made two runs without falling (all the 'stopping' in
slush made it not feel like a straight run down -- but there were no
falls!).

Time no longer exists. Down the hill, each time I discover new
puddles, new bumps. I am pleased as I feel the board and my body
give and continue, floating right, left, straight ahead, like a boat
gently rocking in the ocean without resistance, not minding small
wanderings in its course, yet with an ultimate destination planned.

At times, I take a moment to sit, photograph the views, and just be
here with nothing to do but decide, one more time down the slope?

I choose to ride the final lift down alone, listening to a kirtan by
Donna DeLory, I move into the end this perfect Saturday with another
meditation. I feel the sun tan my face as all the tension and
tiredness drip from my dangling legs. I feel thankful for where I
am at this moment, even as I contemplate intentions for change, for
progress, for love, for courage. I know on Monday morning I will
look out my window from my classroom at the distant mountains like
star-crossed lovers looking at the moon that connects one to the other.

Thankful for this gift to ourselves, we seek to nourish our bodies.
Indian food, a cuisine of rich flavor and warm comfort. To start
our meal, we order Karma and Taj Mahal lagers, which the waitress
promises will bring good Karma and gifts of the Taj Mahal,
respectively. The conversations about angers and frustrations of the
week turn now to jokes and dreams and adventures, current and desired.

"I had forgotten how easy it is to just drive up to the mountains and
ski for a few hours. Thanks for organizing this." I smile,
grateful to not only have friends along, but to have given this gift
of the essence of vacation.

"It might be the last visit of the season if the heat keeps up. I
want to build up my muscle stamina, need to find exercise to do that."

"Surfing. I have the rack and my board."

"Sure. I'll try that. I am always up for a challenge."

"Oh, it's challenging."

"You know, I have always liked challenges, but in the past limited
myself to intellectual ones because that is where I was told my
capabilities were. Lately, though, it's all physical and I am amazed
at what I can do. Maybe it is thumbing my nose at the accumulating
birthdays."

"Whatever it is, it is great."

"Let's up it one notch and agree within the next 12 months we will go
surfing in the morning and skiing or boarding in the afternoon."

"Ah, now you are trying to keep up with those men you have been
meeting."

"I told you about that? Sure. Well, not keep up, but it is that
proverbial LA day, embracing all it has to offer, now brought into
the world of possibility after meeting two people who have actually
done this. If they can do it, so can we. The legend does not say
anything about doing either expertly. Hell, it could be a surf lesson!"

"Ok. It's a deal."

"Ended, of course, with a night soaking in pools in Desert Hot Springs."

Once home, I soak by candlelight in a ginger bath, steaming myself
into complete relaxation and bliss.