It's cold, like really cold. England lost the World Cup last night and walking back from the game there was a very very crisp feel to the air feeling like the anhydrous clean smell of an imminent snowfall. I had to scrape ice off the car on Friday night as well - apparently it was -3°C. We've not had any precipitation for a few weeks now, it's almost like the mountains and clouds are saving it all up for one massive dump pre-season. Get the base layer really deep and thick before the lifts open.
Right now I just want the pre-season to end and we can all get involved in the winter. There's loads to do and loads to look forward to. Chamonix town center is dead with the town taking a collective deep breath before the tourists come back with skis and poles in tow. The boys are getting fidgety and there's a sort of nervous tension amongst the locals waiting for the fun to kick off again.
I've even started looking at all my gear, wiping it down and getting it sorted out and fixing small things. I've spoken to Shaun about when we're opening up the transfer business full-time and put together some riding playlists to listen to on the mountain.
I can't believe how nervous I am, at least we're all in the same boat out here!