State by State

Apparently there is an entire country between Boston and San Francisco.


by Damian

I am superhuman. No, I wasn’t bitten by a spider. My bones were not injected with metal. My DNA was not manipulated and I cannot start fires with a blink of my third eye. I do not even have the third eye. But I do feel like I can do things that mere mortals were not intended to do.

It does not last long. Couple of turns, couple of meters, yards or feet. Sooner than I would have liked it I am back to my normal, boring self. If you blink, you miss it. But from time to time on a day like today I am filled with happiness that comes from knowledge that I can do no wrong. My only worry is which of the seemingly endless possible lines I should pick. The only sound I hear is the wind. The only goal of existence is to engage in a crazy impossible dance that moves me downhill.

Biologists tell us that walking is like constant falling. Our body awkwardly leans forward and our legs unwittingly catch up to prevent us from disastrous face plants. Skiing in powder should be even harder. Boots, skis, poles seem to be designed to torture us and get in the way. But somehow, on these rare occasions, everything conspires to help me defy gravity. I jump into a bowl, my body mysteriously finds balance, skis float effortlessly and find right angles without my assistance. I am suspended beneath the blue sky, way above the hard ground covered by a safe snowy cushion. I do not even feel guilty about invading the untouched whiteness of the slope.

So it does not last long. The trail always ends to soon. Or I fall spectacularly, preferably when people on the lift are watching. But before that happens, for a brief sweet moment, I get to be superhuman.


Someone please remind me never to marry a snowboarder. Oh, wait. Did that already. So someone please remind me never to marry a snowboarder AGAIN. To be perfectly honest I actually married a crypto snowboarder. Transition from skis and poles to the board technically happened way after the actual ceremony. I am not sure how one detects a crypto snowboarder before the fact, but I am sure I am against marriage equality when it comes to such mixed liaisons.


After driving through beer free and - despite of that - beguiling lands of Navajo reservation we found Flagstaff. It’s a refreshingly normal and unexpectedly liberal town in otherwise birthist and tea partying Arizona. Science has yet to analyze a strong correlation between ‘no guns allowed’ signs and good coffee and decent food, but to our relief such a connection exists and can be readily tested in Flagstaff.