I don't think there's another time of the year that fills me with more excitement, anticipation, and impatience as the month of November. November means ski season is just around the corner. The days seem to pass by slower and slower while I await the first local snowfall, and most importantly the season openings of the New England Ski Resorts. While most New Englanders are filled with dread during this time of year, haunted by nightmares of power outages, slippery roads, blustery winds, and fighting for parking spots in city, us skiers and boarders get pumped up for a few months of blissful fun in the mountains. We dream of fresh tracks on powder days, big dumps that send you calling in sick to work, top to bottom bombs that you swear must have set a record, and the big air that you're damn glad your friend was there to witness. We check the weather report 10 times a day to follow that storm that just might pass over us and provide killer conditions. We watch the clock in agony every Friday, anxious to hop in the car and head up north, hopefully beating some of the traffic. We spend our Mondays excitedly sharing stories of the great "secret" run we found, or the new trick we pulled off, or the bump run that we nailed.