Sorry I haven't posted in awhile.  I'll update you with some information not necessarily related to being a bad Grampa, but perhaps interesting in understanding my insanity.....:-)

My dear cousin Alan was a world class skier.  He raced for the University of Montana, specializing in downhill racing. He was selected to the Junior Olympics in 1968, and regaled to me the vitriol of starting the downhill competition at Stowe, Vermont on ice.  They had to chop steps in the ice and let them down to the START of the race on ropes.

He told me of his coaches advice to "remember to breathe" during a two to three minute downhill run.

I was unable to participate in competition due to my Mother's strict adherence to Seventh-Day Adventist aversion to competitive skiing on Saturday (that will be another story for a different day).  Alan was a strong and awesome competitor in the downhill event, and I could never have aspired to match his strength and endurance.

Although I was not allowed to participate in the competition, I took personal pride in knowing that I was much faster than my dear cousin (yeah, I'd race you today) in the Giant Slalom events.

At the time, Snowbowl boasted the steepest vertical drop in the U.S. that was serviced by a lift.

My dear cousin hung up his staves following a crash where he ruptured both kidneys, but still chose to ski off the mountain rather than ride in the hated and despised ski patrol toboggan.

I went on to later become an instructor at a hidden gem of the Cascades known as Alpental which had a great steep and deep run known as "Upper International"

I taught a slightly off-beat modified racing style that I found immensely entertaining for about ten years.

Later, the spawn of my loins introduced me to the much maligned sport of snowboarding.