Got me a cold I'll tell you what's more
Got it sitting on an airplane
I tell you that cold it left my throat feeling sore
It hurt even more when I was coughing
Ah, but coughing to hard can give you a heart attackackackackackack
You oughta know by now
Exaggerate: you have been keepin' track
'Cause that's all I do with my blogging

But it seems that my nose is clear
If I listen to my snout
Mama if you ask my nose, my cold's movin' out
Mmm, it's movin' out

Well, there's a few problems with me just writing that.  First, I probably just jinxed myself.  Second, I think the only person reading this blog who listens to Billy Joel is my mother.  But it seems that my cold is at least packing up in preparation for Movin' Out.  In my experience, I always feel worst in the morning, so I'll probably wake up tomorrow with a sore throat, but hopefully some day very soon I'll wake up not remembering I have  cold.

Beyond that, I went for a little run today.  Little and slow, just like the cars high school kids drive.  Oh, and my bags finally made it in.  It only took something like six days.  Just long enough for me to cave and buy new windbriefs in West Yellowstone.  I guess that should be a lesson that when you have as many pairs of windbriefs as I have accumulated over the years, leave one at home in case they loose your bags, even if you're going north of the Arctic Circle, because let's face it, West Yellowstone was much colder.  Or maybe just throw a pair in your carry-on.  Either way, people will let you borrow almost everything else you need to ski, but not too many people like sharing underwear.

I see parents waiting
Full parking lot
And their numbers
They are a lot
And I think to myself
What a wonderful trip

We drove back from West Yellowstone yesterday, but not after I got in a nice, easy ski leading the J2 boys around.  As usual with BSF, when we were supposed to leave and when we actually did leave were vastly different times, but eventually we made it back.  Then I ate dinner and went to sleep, and I just woke up.  A good, long sleep is a great way to try to get over an illness.  Try being the key word.

Anyways, I promised you some ramblings the other day, so here goes.  Because my skis, boots and poles have still yet to make it here, I had to do a lot of demoing.  Madshus was great about getting me great skis and even letting me keep them overnight if I needed (for instance, the night before a race).  And the skis Madshus got me were great.  Best part of my race on Friday.  Also, my new Madshus boots came in, which was great.  And Swix provided me with the same poles I usually ski on.

More to the point of rambling, spending all that time at the demo got me thinking.  There are all sorts of fancy names for new skis, boots and poles, as well as the new components to said skis, boots and poles.  A lot of them really try to sound scientific but the words don't really sound like something you'd hear engineers talking about in some laboratory.  Here's my theory on what actually happens.

The engineers develop the next amazing advance in skiing:  PolyOctoOxydizedPolyScandium-Krypton Inhesive, or POOPSKI for short.  They make the ski, which makes all other skis seem like wooden skis covered in klister by comparison, and give it to the advertising crew, who realize that nobody wants to buy a ski that says POOPSKI, even if it's really good.  Also, the engineers told them they couldn't give away the secrets of the POOPSKI, lest other companies steal the ideas.  So the advertising people decide to rename it, something like Fastium or Winnium.  You know, some term that people actually want on their ski equipment.  Then, I look at all the names on equipment and say, "These words don't sound like actual materials or designs."

So this ain't the end
I felt you again today
I had to blow my nose away
Throat burns like the sun
Coughing for everyone
In West it never fails

You got in so far that I must wheeze
Bet you came in that plane for me
You'd have me down, down, down under the sheets
Now wouldn't you
Bactericuda

So I promised I'd say where I think I got this illness.  On the plane into the US, every time I was about to fall asleep, the guy behind me would wake me up with sudden, violent coughing.  It was like somebody jumping out from behind a corner to scare you.  This guy just wouldn't let me fall asleep.  And I'm pretty sure he also got me sick (If the real thing don't do the trick, you're gonna make me really sick?)

Anyways, it's a good thing I didn't race today.  I went out for a little ski, and tested some kick wax for BSF.  Then I came back and took a hot shower to try to get this illness out, and sat down to write on my blog.  After I'm finished, it's lunchtime.

And as a teaser, I've got a doozy of an idea that I'm saving up for a rainy day.  Well, a proverbial rainy day, at least.  Although who knows, I may scratch the entire idea if I realize it's just a terrible idea.  Anyways, it's about lunch time.

Won't race around here no more
Won't race around here no more
Whatever I'm looking for
Won't race around here no more

My bags still aren't in, so I had to borrow Wynn Roberts' skis to race.  I thought the skis were the best part of my race.  I woke up with a scratchy throat, and I think the race only made it worse.  My throat is sorer, if anything, and I've been coughing and wheezing a bit this afternoon.  I don't really want to take any chances with my asthma, because I've been told by my doctor it could get worse if I don't take care of it, so long story short, I don't think it's a good idea for me to race tomorrow.

In other news, I got my new skate boots today, which was sweet.  Also, our bathroom has become a boot drying sauna.  Except it's like 80F, instead of 80C.  And there's a toilet in there.  I guess there's not any other boot information to convey.

Well we got no bags
And we got no skiin' clothes
We ain't got no skis boots or poles
But our bags are now in the USA

What am I thankful for?  Easy.  My bags are in the same country as me.  Not in the same state, or probably time zone, but I'll settle for country at this point in time.

So today consisted of a lot of me looking for things to race in tomorrow.  Some of it was relatively easy.  Swix is my pole sponsor, so they're lending me poles from the demo here.  Same with Madshus for boots and skis.  Skis were a little more tricky since I had to go out and test a bunch of skis I'm completely unfamiliar with, but I can now pass the skis, boots, poles check.  And I managed to get a racing suit from one of the juniors in BSF who isn't racing.  Meyer family saves the day once again!

So here's to hoping my stuff get in in time for Saturday's classic race.  It would be really nice to race in my own clothes and on my own equipment.  But if not, I'm sure I can snare some classic equipment.

Travel blues

On that plane I was a comin'
Down the jetway bend
I hadn't seen the sunshine since
I don't know when
I'd been stuck in Rovaniemi
And time kept draggin' on
But that plane it kept delayin'
Thought my connection was gone...
When I was in Chicago
My bag it didn't come
It made life easier
At least in them customs
But now I sit here in Bozeman
No possessions; I know why
And now my ride is a comin'
Down to West Jelly-e-i

I guess that pretty much sums everything up.  I traveled for over 27 hours, about 22 of which were on planes, just to not have skis, clothes, or much anything else, except this blog.  But I didn't have it when I arrived.

The crazy part is, things were going well until I got to Chicago.  Yeah, every plane was delayed, but they were the sort of delays you expect when traveling, the sort of delays that don't make you miss your connections.  The sort of delays that keep you from eating food while your feet are on the ground, but European airlines serve food in the air.  And I had the chocolate that I wrote about in my last BSF update, for those of you who followed those.

Then, our bags didn't show up in Chicago.  It made clearing customs easier, but we were on enough flights for the day that we were only checked through to Chicago, and we were looking to recheck our bags through to Bozeman.  Then, they declared that they overbooked the plane, and needed 20 volunteers to spend the night in Chicago.  I don't have anything against Chicago, but I really wanted to try to get all my travel over with.  So eventually they read off the names of the 20 heaviest passengers and they had to stay behind.  Or maybe they just chose names out of a hat.  Either way, the plane was ready to make weight.

Or was it?  We got on the plane and they solicited for four more volunteers to get off the plane to make weight.  Then they decided, no, we could make weight.  I fell asleep, and woke up near Salt Lake, to be informed that the Salt Lake airport was closed due to a bad storm, and we were traveling to beautiful Idaho Falls for more fuel.  Upon arrival, we were further informed that the jetway in Idaho Falls was broken, and we would be spending our visit on the plane.  Luckily, the plane was filled with generally fun people, who apparently had the sanity to realize that getting all worked up would accomplish absolutely nothing, except maybe make the lavatory smell worse than it already did, which was bad enough to almost set off the smoke alarm.

After a few hours on the ground, we flew into Salt Lake.  We arrived there an hour after our flight to Bozeman was supposed to land.  I scanned my ticket at the help desk, and lo and behold, Leif and I had been placed on a new flight scheduled to leave in...negative 15 minutes.  Apparently we ran fast enough to travel backwards in time and completely violate relativity, because Leif and I made the flight, and got into Bozeman at around midnight.  So now I'm waiting for my ride to West Yellowstone, where I can try to find something to ski in, on, and with, since last I heard, all my ski stuff was left in England.  Hopefully I get my skis before the races this weekend!

See you all in West Yellowstone.  And thanks to the Meyers for giving me a ride there.