Somehow I found myself at a High Pants Dance Party last night. With a a frilly shirt, top hat, shades and a checkered pair of maroon and white bell bottoms swaying back and forth, I did the bump and grind to all the hits of the 80's and 90's. In case you are wondering, "What is HIgh Pants Dance Party?" Think camel toe, think moose knuckle, think mom jeans, think the '80's, think MC Hammer. From "Funky Cold Medina", we moved into Will Smith's "Summertime". We grooved it to left, swayed over to the right just before moving deep into the "Electric Slide" and watching the ladies shake what they had to the "Macarena". It was one of those perfect Tahoe summer nights. Line of the Week !! – Was It All A Dream? | Unofficial Networks

Line of the Week !! - Was It All A Dream?

Line of the Week !! - Was It All A Dream?

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Line of the Week !! - Was It All A Dream?

By

The Line of the Week
Photo’s by Ryan Salm
Words by Ryan Salm
Location -Squaw Valley/Lake Tahoe
Skier – Brennan Lagasse, Maybe (It was a dream)

Was It All A Dream?

Somehow I found myself at a High Pants Dance Party last night. With a a frilly shirt, top hat, shades and a checkered pair of maroon and white bell bottoms swaying back and forth, I did the bump and grind to all the hits of the 80’s and 90’s. In case you are wondering, “What is  High Pants Dance Party?” Think camel toe, think moose knuckle, think mom jeans, think the ’80’s, think MC Hammer.  From “Funky Cold Medina“, we moved into Will Smith’s “Summertime”. We grooved it to left, swayed over to the right just before moving deep into the “Electric Slide” and watching the ladies shake what they had to the “Macarena”. It was one of those perfect Tahoe summer nights.

As the night faded into the record books, I nestled into a cozy sleeping bag and dozed off on a black shag carpet. It was like I was in a movie because as I closed my eyes, everything got wavy, there was a slow fade out and into another world I slipped. Instantly I was teleported to another place. It was green, creeks were abundant and flowing, there was no one around. As I looked to my left I saw Brennan. He was smiling. He had a pack on which held a pair of fat Praxis skis. We were moving upwards. We were bush whacking, laughing, the weather was sublime. There was a slight yet perfect breeze which kept the summer like temperatures down. A multitude of kaleidoscopic wildflowers blanketed the landscape. As the breeze picked up they swayed to and fro. It smelled like spring.

A hiker gazes out across Squaw Valley

Every so often I would see something familiar, something I remembered like deja vu. It may have been a rock feature, it may have been a peak. Then I saw a large dead tree and I instantly knew where I was. This was Squaw Valley. This was KT-22.

We continued to climb, the wildflowers grew thicker and the anticipation grew. “Where were we going?” I noticed I had skis too. We were talking to one another but I can’t make out what the topic was. The next thing I know we are standing atop Chute 75. There had been patchy snow throughout the hike but here on Chute 75 was a perfect 1200 feet of snow surrounded by summertime. I remember laughing. I remember thinking to myself, “Don’t wake up yet. This is too perfect.” We threw our skis on and began an amazing July descent of the chute. I couldn’t help thinking how beautiful the valley was, how green, how lush. Each turn reminded me of this past season, it was bliss.

As we reached the bottom we high-fived, laughed some more and took in the surroundings. I could feel a distinct vibration from my right side. I tried to ignore it as it seemed to be taking away from the moment. It kept coming. It turned into a sound. Then came a bright warm feeling on my body. Brennan had disappeared, things were getting hazy, my throat was dry, my eyes crusty, my head was pounding. I was in a bed, it was my bed. My alarm was ringing, “What the hell time is it? Where the f#&k am I? Where did that beautiful mountain go? Then in hit me, “It’s July 26th, there’s no way that was real. It was a dream.”

I woke from bed, I was hung over. I had a maroon and white pair of bell bottoms on. I was instantly depressed. That was such a perfect dream. I got a glass of water, rubbed my eyes and powered up my MacBook. I fired up my trusty hotmail account and saw a strange yet interesting email in my inbox. It was from an anonymous source. The title said, “Line of the Week !! Mine is much cooler than yours will ever be.” I opened the email and attached were a handful of beautiful images. They were from Squaw. They looked to be ski shots from summer. They were wildflowers, they were Chute 75, they were from my dream! At the bottom there was a note that read, “I hope you enjoy the pics, you can have them. I have no need for them anymore. Keep on livin’ the DREAM!”

Chute 75

For more of Ryan’s Summer Skiing work, check out:
Ryan Salm Photography.com

The Line of the Week is a weekly photo piece by Ryan Salm featuring some of Tahoe’s finest athletes doing whatever we deem rad. We will be using the term “Line” loosely to describe anything resembling chutes, big airs, pointers or any general madness. All images are the property and copyright of Ryan Salm Photography. All images are only to be used in conjunction with the Line of the Week. Any other usage must be cleared in writing by Ryan Salm.

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