Moosies
Miggyman's story reminds me of a far off time, when i would work the summers to bugger off and live in the mountains for the winter, fornicating, drinking and snowboarding.

This being the early nineties, the resort printed the same ticket for every day of the week - the only thing that changed was the dates (obviously), and there were no bar codes or scanners on the hill, ergo it was almost impossible to discern a valid ticket from the next, regardless what day of the week it was. It mostly fell to the liftie's eyeballs to bust you or not, and they being usually as hungover as we were or annoyed at watching everyone else steal all the fresh, didn't give a rat's ass anyhow.

With this in mind, I neglected to buy a season's pass when I arrived, and dutifully collected all the spent passes I could find, from friends, people leaving for the day, or just in the parking lot where most of them would end up. I would then proceed home, and with my trusty scalpel doctor a pass with the extra numbers and the like to make a pass with the applicable date. Result!

This went on for weeks, and I soon had an illicit business in doctoring passes for others ( covering the bills for alcohol and fornication... er wait). The snow gods were pleased and and life was good until....

...near the end of a great day, almost the last run, a liftie asks to see my pass whilst on the top chair and I am promptly busted and asked to leave. In good humor I comply ( was amazed it took so long to be busted in the first place), riding down to the middle chair, where I was chased by some twat on a snowmobile who stopped me and told me I was to walk to the bottom ( insurance, liability etc). A little miffed but in no position to argue i trudge off, following a cat track where i become hopelessly lost. It was getting dark. People were going home. I started to think I might have to hole up for the night...

...when through the forest I see some fresh prints on a path that turns ninety degrees from my vision. Wooyay saved! methinks, hop on the trail, turn the turn, and end up face to face with a male moose, no farther than a couple of feet away from my nose, a good six and a half feet tall, staring at me and huffing, stance a tad to aggressive for my liking. Behind Moosie was his wife and kid, browsing by a nearby stream. As slowly and non threateningly as i could, I backtracked and crouched under a bush while Moosie followed me and stared at me for about an hour before wandering off. Needless to say I was scared shitless, survived to tell the tale, and buy my passes to this day. Don't be a tightwad or think you're clever whilst doing so or a moose will eat your face.

Apols for length but it was bloody cold after a while.
(goorf, Wed 29 Oct 2008, 21:32, 2 replies)

... Or a moose will eat your face.
That made me giggle. Sound advice I shall stick too with glee! ^-^;;
( vix0r was not Matthew on, Wed 29 Oct 2008, 21:36, closed)

^^ What
she said. Have a *click*
(uk_viper stopped lurking on, Wed 29 Oct 2008, 22:24, closed)