Lift’s Blog

Through the years at hunter mountain there have been many Nick-Names. From the funny “Captain Mudbutt” (referring to AJ’s love of donuts and mountain dew that always ended in a 2 hour stint in the bathroom) To the off color Yanni “Brown Hole” (Yan is brown, and hole, makes him dirty). I myself have been subject to a few including: “Papa Scott” (I must be getting old) “Dimabelly” (I must be getting fat) and the ever popular “Scotty Ya-Boos” (I must be getting fantastic man boobs). Read more

My dog Odie is the smartest dog in the world, and I can prove it.

On Saturday night, after a hard day of riding, Andrea was kind enough to give in to my annoying requests for a loaf of banana bread. Now, we’re talking about the best banana bread EVER! It’s no use trying to describe it, you have to taste it to understand.

 So we were in the kitchen, and Andrea is mixing the batter and getting ready to bake. Odie is sitting next to us and listening to every word, putting on her best googly eyes as she discretly begs for crumbs. Andrea explains that the recipe calls for chocolate chips, but although she has bought a whole 12 oz. bag of morsels, she is not going to add them into the batter because Carlos does not like chocolate. And the baking goes on. The banana load bakes for an hour, but it’s not ready on time to eat before we hit Slopes (yes, not a typo, we went to Slopes).

It’s now Sunday night, time for the weekly pit-stop at Pancho’s. We leave the house for about 1 hour, and for the first time Odie is home alone with the loaf. The loaf was in a baking pan, wrapped 3 times in Saran wrap, on top of the counter. Yup, you guessed it, Odie got a hold of the banana loaf, unwrapped it, and gulfed it down. Clean out the baking pan. But that is not the best part. The kitchen table was covered with half-eaten bags of potato chips, cookies, chocolate, it was junk food heaven. Odie carefully browsed through the selection, and grabbed the bag of chocolate chips. She ate the entire bag of morsels with the banana loaf. Nothing else. Smartest dog in the world!

 The aftermath of Odie’s binge is another story. Lets just say that the drive home and last night were not pleasant (yawnning….)

Another weekend of fake snow, but no riding. Spent my entire weekend off the mountain “trying” to study and get work done. So, I figured I’d take a break and journey out to the Dirty Jerz and go mall jamming with some of my Goomba friends instead!

Here, me and Vinnie go check out at the mall. What are you gonna do about it?

We meet up with my boy Frankie Knuckles and his brother Joey. Pucker up for a pic – “Say Scungilli!”

These chicks are hot yo. Represent!

Afterwards we hit the Tunnel. My man Sal (center, bottom) got retard face from all the Jaegar. It was ill yo!

Next weekend I can’t wait to rock out my Diesel jeans on the slopes of Hunter, yo.

One,

-Johny Buckets

yo! took this shot at sierra-at-tahoe…those jokers don’t play when it comes to snappin’ necks =A.J.

It was 530a and as we finish gassing up I check the oil only to spend 30 minutes trying to get the hood of my car closed. As we reach subsonic speeds the deafening sounds of my muffler, or lack thereof, trigger every car alarm in a 3 block radius. Good morning Brooklyn and peace the fuck out!

We reach Hunter and it’s everything that we imagined. As Patti states, “Dark, cold and bullet proof”. Pretty much summed up the day. Not to mention the lift breaking down for 30 minutes. You don’t really ride at Hunter, you go lifting. That’s the act of riding the lift at Hunter all day. So, we sat with 2 ski patrol dudes both of which were retired medics. Exchanged stories about clearing fetus clogged toilets, removing half of a car thief from a car wreck; you know standard lift talk. The one thing I walked away with that I’ll consider is never go to a nudist colony after exiting the cold ocean. Baby dick becomes turtle dick.

At Hunter you spend about 2/3 of your day on the lift which is spent talking or listening to other peoples bullshit. My favorite is yelling at the kooks side-swiping Gates of Hell. A parent who brings their novice 2yr old to face death on the boiler plate slopes of a black diamond probably killed small birds as a child. It’s not just mindless gabbing on the lifts, but also discussions on life lessons. Just like the time when we all get the talk from mommy and daddy. “Son boys kiss girls” would sum up the point of my story.

It’s been awhile since my last jaunt through Hunter and the infamous pit. This is where all the regulars if not locals convene and spit diarrhea of the mouth. Is that Scottie screaming nonsense that I hear? You heard right. I averted the sloppy Slopes and had to head to BK. So, the stories lame, but the moral of the story, “Boys kiss girls.”

Here’s a photo of the Koizumi family.

Prototype Lift Hoodie (back)

Prototype Lift Hoodie (frontal)

Prototype Lift Cock Sock