Thanks, Groomers.

An early morning ski two weeks ago reminded me to give a big thanks to all of the groomers who keep the trails manageable for us. I started my dawn patrol of Virginia Meissner early to beat the assured weekend crowd. My ski exploration led me up the freshly groomed Tangent Loop to the tracked-but-not-groomed Wednesdays Trail.  I followed Wednesdays until the track stopped at some downed trees. Unexcited about breaking trail through three feet of snow, I headed back toward the Snowbush Trail.

A nice ski track allowed me to experience a couple inches of fresh powder without sacrificing my legs. I toured the western end of the trail system until I ran out of tracked trail. I was suddenly forced to make the unhappy decision of breaking trail or turning around. Unwilling to give up ground, I began to move slowly through the knee-deep, untouched powder. I immediately recognized the futile nature of my attempt and turned around. Just as I headed back with my tail between my legs I spotted the glorious sight of a grooming machine. I knew good karma had saved me as I tipped my hat to the groomers on their way past. The smile stayed on my face as I rode the corduroy to my car.

There is a Super Bowl myth perpetuated by potato chip manufacturers and light-beer companies. And the myth is that everyone watches this supposed big game sitting at the edge of their seats, all wearing jerseys, all beautiful, extravagant snacks and beers in hand as they all rise from the couch, often in slow motion and sometimes in unison, to celebrate something that just happened on the screen upon which their eyes are locked.

There are likely less than a dozen actual Super Bowl parties like that in the world. And if you’ve been to one or if you ever find yourself at one, count yourself lucky. That is not how we, as Americans, watch the Super Bowl. Rather, it goes something like this…

Snowskate? What the hell is “snowskate?” It's just like it sounds—one uses a skateboard-esque deck to surf the snow, man.

Garfield Wright, winner of the 2010 Giant Slalom Snowskate Olympics held in Port Angeles, Wash., took some time out from Saturday’s rail jam at Hoodoo Snow Area to explain to me the sport and the required equipment. Apparently there are two major types of snowskates: single decks, which have a wide skateboard-like deck with a P-tex and grooved bottom, and bideck boards, which is similar but has a longer ski below the board.

“I think it's the funnest thing in the world,” said Wright, who rides for the Redmond, Wash.-based snow cone company, Cakeatr, which also sponsored the event.

I woke on Sunday morning realizing that this day would be the last full day of football until sometime next September. Sure, there was the Super Bowl, but it’s just not the same. Another season had slipped by.

Soon, Sundays would be occupied by the chores that had been swept aside over the course of the past four months. It’s usually a sad sensation when football season ends. Hell, some have said that the conclusion of the NFL season may have contributed to Hunter S. Thompson’s decision to blow out his brains.

Weirdly, I didn’t care that the season had come to an end. When the Giants kicked that field goal, I turned off the TV and wondered if I’d even bother watching the Super Bowl this year. I will, of course, but I did ponder the thought.