A friend of mine recently drove up to the Wachovia ski area to do some work.
He said the area was a little offbeat, with its big wooden bridges and towering tall buildings, but he enjoyed it, especially with a friend who loves to ski.
“I like the Wachtels, too,” he said.
“They’re just such a fun place to ski.”
I thought that would be the same with the Wausau Ski Area.
“Absolutely,” he responded.
I had never done a Wausausau before, and had been a bit wary.
The park has a long history of open-air snowshoeing and snowboarding, but it is not very popular for the outdoor enthusiasts who are there to explore.
The area was home to the ski village, and the area is famous for its beautiful skiing, so I figured it would be a good place to go if I was interested in exploring the park for a bit.
It turned out to be a great experience.
I made my way through the forest, passing small villages, some with old buildings and some with beautiful new ones, as well as the ski area itself, which was decorated in white-sandstone and white sandstone stone.
I enjoyed the scenery.
The skiing was awesome, too.
The trees were long, the snow was light and the temperatures were cool.
It was fun to ski around the park, too, as the skiing was so far away.
I was amazed by how fast it went.
I went up the hill, and was quickly rewarded with an avalanche that I was able to save myself and a friend from.
We didn’t lose a leg.
I am sure many people have skied there, and we were able to get a little bit of skiing experience.
What I didn’t expect was to get an avalanche.
It took me a few moments to realize that I had to jump out of the way.
I took a moment to catch my breath and let the avalanche pass by.
When I looked back at my friend who was in the valley behind me, I was surprised to see that he was already gone.
The snowfall that I did manage to get away with on my way up to rescue my friend was about the same as the snowfall I received in the park.
I thought maybe the snowboarding was too slow, but that wasn’t the case at all.
The winds were coming from the right, and I was right behind him, with a couple feet of snow on his face.
I looked down at the hill and saw him still standing on the slopes.
“He was a bit cold,” I said to my friend, who was still sitting on the snow, “but he looked pretty good.”
I was still skeptical that it was a snowboard.
But after a few minutes, I realized that I would be skiing a bit farther than I had before.
The next morning, I decided to try to go for a short ski run.
My first few runs were fun, and it was the snow that was the most enjoyable.
The weather was very cold and snow-free, and in a few hours I was skiing in the mountains, and no longer feeling cold.
My friends were surprised to learn that I also did a snowboarding run the day before.
“You must have a nice ski!” one of my friends asked me.
I told him that I only had one ski and a snow board, and that it had a few hundred feet of vertical range.
“But we can’t just jump out the back,” he replied.
“That would be too risky,” I told the friend.
He was right.
“Just keep your skis tucked up in the back of your pack and make sure you get out and get your feet warm.”
“You need to go faster than you normally would,” he continued.
I think that my friend just wanted to help me out.
It worked out great.
As I was walking up the steep hill, I saw a snowmobile waiting for me.
The driver, a tall, athletic white-haired man who seemed to be in his 60s, was holding a ski lift.
“Let’s get started,” he told me.
“It’s snowing!” he said, pulling the lift down the hill.
I started to ski down the slope, and then I heard the driver turn to me.
He waved me over to him and asked if I had a problem with the lift.
I said no.
He pulled out his ski lift and let me out, which I did as soon as I got the lift up.
I immediately realized that the lift was pretty much dead weight, and if it wasn’t I wouldn’t have been able to ride it at all, so it was time to get rid of it.
He told me that the next hill was pretty steep, and there was only a few feet of free space left on the ski.
I decided that I wasn’t