Because I Can’t

Ten years ago, I crossed the line from dedicated to obsessed. I moved three hours north into the mountains and began skiing from the first few inches of snow until the last snow patch melted in Tuckerman Ravine. End of season turns in June or July became an annual tradition. Excepting when I was injured.

I’ve since grouped all of my season ending adventures into the Because Series. But this year’s entry does not contain skiing content, it is only an announcement of the new categorization. My season ended in April as the result of a broken toe, an injury that would last long into the summer.

I’ll be back in the ravine next year. I’ll ascribe it to whatever particular reason resonates with me at the time. But the real reason is more intricate and nuanced. It comes from that mysterious quality of being human, that inner voice that drives us or doesn’t.

I am not so naive as to believe it is mine to control. I may be conscious of it but I am still just along for this ride, a determined observer. All of the Becauses are just illusions to be embraced.

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