I’d just like to announce that this evening, ‘round ten to ten, on the last run of a long, hard, incremental process in which many rather less impressive things happened, I landed not one but two jumps off two three or four foot snowpark kickers in a row.

Yes, I’m bragging. But seriously, this took some doing…

Like a whole evening of doing. Several runs zipping past them, sizing ‘em up, just doing little hops, getting used to the feel of landing the thing flat, which is what you have to do, with the bigger jumps (landing on edge, that I can do, have for quite some time)…

Then hitting ‘em sorta diagonally, jumping off the sides, so I was getting the feel of it, getting a sense of the speed I’d need, but not quite having to cope with the whole height of ‘em…

Then, finally, taking that plunge, and going right over the tops of ‘em…

Which, for several runs, wasn’t working out so well. I found a few interesting ways of not landing. Like not having quite enough speed to land flat. Like having enough, but then not having the nerve, freaking out, trying for edge landings (bad idea)… Then having the nerve, and just not managing to stay up anyway…

This part was… umm… entertaining. Apparently. See, I’d only decided it was time I took this plunge in part because the damned things were just right there, taunting me. These two big kickers they’d set up in a new park they’d put next to this main street green run right above the lodge at Fortune… So they’re in full view of the lift, going up and over to where I more usually ride…

So as I was learning how not to land them, even over my headphones, I could hear the reactions of those watching this performance from the lift… Reactions mostly… umm… sympathetic. I think… Apart from entertained.

And then it was last run, last shot I’ve got at it. And the run before that, I’d almost landed the first, just spun out onto my heel edge, somehow…

And I landed that sucker. Fucking great feeling, after all that fumbling toward it. I’m like two turns past landing it before it hits me: hey, that was it. I did it.

The second, okay, less graceful. I was so startled by actually pulling it off, I’d forgotten to keep my speed up, barely had enough for the second kicker, teetered toward the toe, had to put a hand down to punch myself back upright…

But I’m counting that. Damn straight.

So, shorter: yeah, baby. Yes, my airframe’s long, heavy, and all of 40 years old. But it can still fly, apparently.