Anticipation ...
Carly Simon garnered a Grammy Award nomination for Best Pop Female Vocalist in 1972 with her song “Anticipation.”
We can never know about the days to come
But we think about them anyway
And I wonder if I'm really with you now
Or just chasin' after some finer day
Anticipation, anticipation
Is makin' me late
Is keepin' me waitin' …
And stay right here 'cause these are the good old days …
Anticipation is fundamental to the human psyche. Anticipation brings us happiness and contentment. It can also lead to uncertainly and apprehension.
Anticipation about an expected positive experience is a journey; having something to look forward to brings about feelings of excitement and joy. A bright future is in the offing. No matter the circumstances, an exciting upcoming event generates positive eagerness and motivation.
On the other hand, anticipation about an expected negative experience is a source of stress and concern. Even if the post-event is unexpectedly positive, we have paid a cost for the expectation and the uncertainly. "He who suffers before it is necessary suffers more than is necessary," Seneca, Roman essayist, philosopher, playwright (C. 4 B.C.- A.D.65).
Anticipation happens after you identify the event or adventure. This is the build-up. It is what you are looking forward to, positive or negative. This time period can be minutes to years. The message to you is saying, “Think about all the enjoyment we are going to have!” or “Think about the worst that can happen.”
Anticipation of the coming ski season does not compare with the anticipation of life’s major events --- birth, marriage, graduation, a new romance, a new job, a driver’s license, the trip of a lifetime, to name but a few. However, for the skier or snowboarder the color turning of the autumn leaves, a chill in the air, the end of daylight savings time, or just the plain ole calendar bring a renewed sense of anticipation to our hearts and souls. We reminisce in feelings from prior encounters with the mountain gods, that sunlit day in fresh powder or freely gliding over earlier frustrations; our minds and bodies turn to expectation. We relive the mountain times with family and friends; skiing together, the gatherings, the sharing of experiences. We cannot talk about skiing without talking about food. We reminisce about the wonderful meals we have experienced in our mountain life; we look forward to those yet to come.
We are sensitized to markers … a string of freezing days in the weather report, the first frost on the ground, the first reported or experienced snowfall.
A singular standout marker of our desires has traditionally been the release of the annual Warren Miller film. Sadly, Warren died on January 24, 2018, at 93. He left us a personal legacy of anticipation … fifty-six films spanning 1950 to 2004 (although films after 2004 carry his name, he was no longer involved). Need a serious pre-ski fix, any of Warren’s movies will do the trick. Those of us lucky enough to have experienced Warren sitting at a card table in front of the movie screen and hearing him narrative his film live carry in ourselves a special life-lasting sense of anticipation.
Need a video fix of a different kind … check out Afterglow: Lightsuit Segment. Great music too.
A visit to the mailbox to retrieve the first season issues of Ski and Powder magazines always generates a smile of expectation and soon vicarious enjoyment flipping the pages. Let us not forget the deluge of e-mails from ski areas, first to purchase season passes followed by “snow reports,” actual and expected, complete with enticing pictures. Out to the garage to check the condition of your skis? Boots need any adjustment? Mental state activated … The local ski swap meet is next weekend.
Suddenly your exercise routine, or lack thereof, becomes imperative. How many of your skiing friends have you heard say, “I’ve got to get my legs back in shape.” What about the rest of your body? Shake the dust off that gym membership card; cardio, weights, flexibility. Let’s not forget what you eat; does your diet support your skiing aspirations? Too much sugar, too much processed food, too many chips or fries, too much beer (I know it may come as a surprising shock, but yes, you can drink too much beer) … all make you lethargic. Skiing is energy not lethargy … unless fireplace slopes are your thing.
If you look out the left side on the standard approach to runway 16 at Sea-Tac (SEA) [Seattle-Tacoma International Airport] you will see Crystal Mountain nestled on the flank of Mt. Rainer.
Depending on the weather, an approach to runways 1 and 12 at Washington Dulles International Airport (IAD) take you over Snowshoe Mountain, West Virginia.
How about the terminal at Denver International Airport (DEN)? Makes me think of skiing no matter what the time of year.
And then anticipation becomes action. Tom and I were headed for Greek Peak for some night skiing. Tom was driving his car and bemoaning the lack of preparatory libation. He suddenly remembered he had left a couple cans of beer in his car and reached under the seat to retrieve one. As I turned away from looking out of the window towards Tom and noticed he was about to pop the tab on the beer can, I shouted, “don’t.” Too late. The explosion sprayed un-frozen alcohol all over us and the car; the headliner, the seats, the dashboard, the inside of the windows, and us. We smelled like the inside of a brewery vat. After the shock wore off, Tom’s comment was, “now this is the way to get ready for skiing.” Fortunately, we did not encounter any New York State Troopers; a science and engineering explanation of the events would most likely have been unswaying. It goes without saying that I was much younger for this episode.
It had been a long several weeks at work. I decided to give myself a few days of solitude at Mammoth. An empty grain hauler passed in front of me as I pulled out of the gas station in Mohave; another empty grain hauler came up behind me. I turned on my CB radio as we took the fork to US 395 north. Scanning the channels I came upon a conversation that sounded suspiciously like the drivers of the two grain haulers sandwiching me. I knew it was them when one made a comment about the white sports car with the ski rack between them.
Clear of Mohave the lead hauler accelerated way over the speed limit, way, way over the limit. From the lights in my rear-view mirror, it was clear that I had better speed up or get run over by the second hauler. Apparently, this was a regular run for the two of them as evidenced by their comments about the “CHiPs” (California Highway Patrol), the “County Mounties,” and the “Local Yokels,” most known by name. It was widespread knowledge that the small-town city budgets along US 395 were fueled by skiers and, obviously, by long-haulers like the two I was sandwiched between. I decided the safest place for me going up US 395 was to stay in the convoy between these two; they sped up, I sped up; they slowed, I slowed; which became a topic of conversation between the two of them. It was a rather pleasant drive knowing that I had two large knowing escorts. Their conversations on the CB were much more interesting than anything on the radio. Hum along a few bars of the song “Convoy.”
Going through Bishop the lead hauler turned off followed by the second. I picked up the microphone of my CB and said, “thanks for the escort. I enjoyed the entertainment.” One of them answered, “we wondered if you had a radio. It was our pleasure. Be safe.” Nice guys and a very nice way to travel to the snow. Sadly, I did not have a convoy southbound.
The first view of “the mountain” increases your heart rate and excites your passion; your mind wants to drift into the powder; keep your eyes on the road! That face smack of cold air getting out of the car delivers a direct message of anticipation.
You can sum up positive anticipation as being grounded in reality, creating confidence, joy, happiness, and hope in your life. Confidence in knowing you can do it, joy in the process, happiness when you’re there, and hope for a long and satisfying future! Get ready, go ski!
