It was 20 below this morning. Sunny, mind you, but what you might describe as fresh.
Nothing really -- compare this to an entry in my grandfather's diaries from the 1920's, where he writes "52 below, a Grand Day!"
Now that 52 below would be in degrees Fahrenheit. Or in this instance, Fahren-lackofheat, but we're not even going to bother doing the math. Once you get to 40 below, it's all much the same, really.
That drop in the mercury let the gang over at Hidden Valley Highland Ski Club swing into action, big time, pulling out the Big Guns. Snow guns, that is.
My English aunt was completely fascinated by these roaring beasts tossing out a continual blizzard. They are pretty cool, in every sense of the word.
The early arrival of winter has let the ski hill open early, and there were plenty of people out there today, well bundled up, enjoying the sunshine -- and the miniature snowgun blizzards.
Hidden Valley has hills for all levels of skier and boarder, a great instruction program, and a comfy warm chalet. It's only ten minutes away from us, too!
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