My parents are to blame for my snowboarding addiction. They financed it, and in spite of my resistance, they pushed me to take lessons when I was young. So it’s only right that we go skiing on my Dad’s birthday every year at the place it all began, Bristol Mountain.
We made the plans early in the week and we invited friends Jim and Alex along. Sunday morning I woke up in my childhood bedroom on Keuka Lake to a howling wind and heavy snow. A lake effect band had worked its way east into the Finger Lakes delivering a nice 3-inch refresh. Nothing was visible beyond the lower half of the mountain as we pulled into the quickly filling parking lot.
