Guest Author: Why Mickey Spades Will Never Be Bad Ass Redux
After reading “Why Mickey Spades Will Never Be a Badass,” I assumed that he would never be late for a powder day again. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
As the storm dumped on Wednesday night, my phone kept beeping with Mickey Spades’ text-messaged ideas for Thursday morning. He wanted to “hit this” and “shred that,” all with his “sick” new Icelantic skis on loan from a friend. To put it mildly, he was “super-psyched” for his second powder day ever. More importantly, he was ready to meet “at any time, bro.”
With that in mind, Luke and I developed a simple plan — meet at Big Blue and take whatever it gave us. Depending on crowds and conditions, we’d either ride the lift serviced glade runs in Big Blue’s sidecountry or earn our turns seeking out some hidden backcountry gems. But regardless, we were getting fresh tracks. And, after hearing this, Mickey Spades was “in.”
Of course, Mickey Spades’ Wednesday night enthusiasm did not translate into Thursday morning freshies. And, while Luke and I were skiing chair-to-chair in a foot of untracked sidecountry, Mickey was nowhere to be seen.
As our runs ticked upwards, we pondered Mickey Spades’s forthcoming explanation. Was it the usual — he hadn’t heard his alarm? Had the plow missed the Spades house and his mom made him shovel? Maybe his lizards needed to be fed? It was even suggested that he’d had a rendezvous with a “wild” lady. The latter, however, was quickly brushed aside as a product of our powder-induced endorphin haze.
Shortly thereafter the text messages started. “Where we meatn?” “B there in 2 bro.” Three runs (and many minutes) later, it was “where you at?” The answer though was irrelevant — he still wasn’t slopeside.