On a glorious Sunday in April the Fat Lady sang at FAR with the background vocals and chorus supplied by the Good Old Goats.

There were brave (brave, but completely mis-guided) folks supposedly trying to skim across the splash post at the bottom of Moose Chutes. Most of the competitors detonated in the splash aspect of the pond rather than gliding the length and to a triumphant landing at the other end. And splash they did. Glide they did not. Claude even opened Corner Pocket for one last spring shot at the sun, a bit of beach side tanning on the edge of the snow.

On the other side of the Cornerstone in the Plaza, the Good Old Goats tuned up in a protracted sound check. Now with the addition of a mandolin and a trumpet, the youthful Goats are maturing into a fine assemblage of musicians.

Once the Good Old Goats actually started, the party started. They rock.

There was beer.

There were parents dancing with their kids. Kids dancing with kids. And some folks (kids and adults) just danced on their own in a universe of their own making.

And earlier there was skiing.

The skiing on top was a little scratchy. The skiing on the bottom a little sloppy. All in all, the skiing for a sunny day in mid April? Just marvelous. Marvelous. Better than expected and one run lead to another. It was a perfect day for a ski around. Hit all the bowls. Hit all the lifts. Wonder if you should put on more sunscreen and say, “To hell with it” and just keep skiing not wanting to stop.

It’s all good

But the Fat Lady sang and we’re off the hill for a few months. It’s back to skins and long slogs for a few (very few) good turns. With the snow pack, we’ll be turning for a while yet, but we have earn every turn now. We’re paying for our days of slack riding with a long hump uphill. A picnic at the top with baguettes and Brie, a little wine and then make the turns to the car.

Ah. Spring.