Auburn Ski Camp / Getting Traction



The snow has accumulated over the past few days and Snowflake and I have been ramping up the training as my knee allows. It has been a little over two weeks now that I’ve been at the Auburn Ski Camp. I have already gained about five pounds of muscle in that time. I also finally got some Olympic regulation nordic skies that were made for me personally by a renowned ski maker who often comes to the Boreal Resort.

His name is Martin Rønning, a Norwegian born ski maker who immigrated to America a few years ago. The skis he made me even made Snowflake gawp in awe! I never thought wooden skis could be so beautiful, light, and effective!

My knee is almost back to normal. I guess the strain really wasn’t that bad or sauna baths and sex are the best cure for anything ever invented by man. Snowflake insists it’s his sacred Hot-Bath-Cold-Bath-Sauna-Bath regimen that I’ve been doing about 3-5 times a day with him lately.

He really is a nut for saunas. Personally, I feel like a hard-boiled egg to be honest. I don’t mind particularly. It makes him randy as hell!

I’m glad that my knee has stopped fucking with me. I’ve already wasted two precious weeks of my ski vacation on that damned thing. I only have two weeks left before I get back to my work on my MD.

I’ll be real truthful here, I am looking forward to getting back at it though. This term I begin my internship at the UCSF Pediatric Brain Center. I’m so excited! It’s such an honor to work with that team and with the kids. It was been consistently rated by US News as the best children’s hospital for pediatric neuroscience since 2014. Hopefully, I can get on the staff there. They are fairly understaffed with the number of cases they are getting since that rating.

It doesn’t hurt that it’s only about ten minutes to my apartment in the Mission District either. Which reminds me, I’ll have to go back to work too. Yuck. I’m currently doing medical coding to pay for my room and board. Its’ cool, kind of. I can work from home. Eight hour days plus twelve more for being an intern is going to be rough though! I may need to cut back my hours.

Oh well . . .

You know what the big thing bothering me about going back is? Having to leave Snowflake here. He’s got his life and responsibilities here and I have mine in San Francisco. We will have to be separated for a while I guess.

Oh gosh . . . that makes my heart squeeze! It hurts!

I’ve never hurt like that before over anyone!

Part of me wants to just chuck it all and be Snowflake’s ‘assistant’. Ha!

But, I can’t. I have invested much of my time, heart, and money into my MD. I also have to remember someone. Actually, a lot of someones. The kids. They need me.

God how they need me!

There was this one case that got to me that made me change my focus from General Practice to Neurology. A boy named Jamal. His mama had been an addict and he had been born with prenatal drug-induced hydrocephalus also called ‘Water on the Brain’. I don’t know what drug the mother had been on, but it had caused this condition. I tended to Jamal as a nurse’s assistant while studying pediatric care techniques. I fed him. I changed him. I comforted him when he had his frequent headaches. I fell in love with him.

Finally . . . Jamal died in my arms.

He had no mama or daddy and he turned bad so quickly that there wasn’t even time for us to use the little paddles. I was holding him as the nurses came in with the crash cart. My holding him was therapeutic as I was trying to hold his head up to help him breathe with the oxygen. I also tried some techniques for displacing fluid from the brainstem. But it was no use. That part of his brain that controlled breathing and heart was already irreversibly impacted by the edema and he passed very quickly.

Despite this, the attending physicians praised my attempt at saving his life and convinced me I had an aptitude and instinct for neurology.

I vowed thereafter to work on the child brain in Jamal’s memory. So, as much as I love Snowflake, I have a duty to Jamal.

But, that’s a couple of weeks from now. I can focus on skiing and fucking and drinking right now! Vacation! Though, I have to admit, at times this feels like anything else but a vacation. Snowflake is merciless!

He’s been round-robbining me with circuited sets every day each day working a different part of the body differently. He started with the upper body because that was all I could do. Then, as that sadist doctor in the infirmary cleared me for further activity, Snowflake started the leg conditioning. Oh my God!

I never knew you could work a leg in so many ways. Backwards, forwards, upwards, downwards, sidekicks, up kicks, hip twists, forward squats, and standard squats! Lunges! Uhgh! Thank the Lord and pass the gravy that I haven’t been cleared for burpees yet. I hate those!

Some of the training was not all pain and all gain, though. I love the slalom machine even though its what fucked up my knee in the first place. There is something truly exhilarating about that side to side undulating motion. It’s especially fun when Snowflake turns on the ‘virtual reality’ 3D flat screen that I didn’t even know was a part of the gizmo! I really feel like I am cascading down a 36% grade!

Now, finally, he’s got me outside of the gym and on the snow!

He says to me: “Actually, the best way to get ready to do this is to . . . um . . . just do it!” He gives me that sparkling smile which looks especially cute when he’s wearing his snow glasses. He looks like a happy white bug! It didn’t matter that what he said didn’t make much sense, really.

Interestingly our first ‘lesson’ today really wasn’t a lesson at all. It was just he and I rather lazily skiing around the course with him pointing this and that out: “There’s a little bump here and an incline there. This part is pretty flat. Watch out for the trees!” That sort of thing. It was only later that I realized, after looking at my odometer, that we’d tracked 20 miles today! I hardly felt it.

I did notice something toward the end, keeping up with Snowflake became easier and easier as we went. I just . . . did what he did. Somehow, the way he splayed the skis and moved them in a weird oval inward like ‘step’ caused him to gain better traction. I did the same and it worked beautifully for pushing through the snow. Also, he only used the poles to touch the snow. He didn’t really push into the snow with them. They were more for balance as he did the ‘step’ movement thing. It saved on energy remarkably!

I just . . . did it! Maybe what Snowflake said earlier really did make sense in a strange Zen-like way. Actually, this whole exercise reminded me a lot of the time I went ‘Transcendental’ for a while mostly to get into the pants of the meditation instructor.

His name was Yun. Jeezus that boy fucked like a god, that’s for damned sure! He taught me stuff. Stuff that just made Snowflake squeal like a girl! Ha!

Yun was about 5’6″ of lean Asian gorgeousness. He looked like he should have had kabuki makeup on and working at a geisha house. He was ‘pretty’! Not Sabrina pretty because Yun was all man, but he was pretty! He could have been a ladyboy so convincing that a sailor wouldn’t even know until Yun took off his pants! Don’t believe the press, Asian guys are hung like horses a lot of times! Women that won’t date them are fucking dumb asses, I swear!

So, my time with Snowflake today reminded me very much of my time with Yun. Yun when he was teaching me Zen meditation, not Yun teaching me tantric sex and how to prolong an orgasm.

Snowflake’s way of instructing is really no instruction at all. He simply does his thing and you follow. It becomes natural after a while like moving skis in an oval is the most normal thing to do this side of walking.

I suppose I also got a lesson in what’s called Orienteering which is ‘the art’ of knowing your way around the trackless wilderness with nothing but your skis, a compass, and your wits. I think that’s what Snowflake was getting at with his ‘there’s a rock, there’s a tree, there’s a bull dyke,’ etc.

It was a lot more fun than being beaten to death in that gawddayym gym down there in the Lodge’s Pit of Despair! Unfortunately, we got more of that tomorrow. Snowflake says ‘that’s where the gold is’ when it comes to competing in this sport. Conditioning, conditioning, conditioning. I can see it. When Snowflake takes off his pants I always gasp first at his gorgeous schlong and then at his magnificent legs! They really look and feel like they’ve been cast in marble by the Classical Greek sculptor Phidias himself!

Some of the sights today were, well, I guess I could say they were religious experiences! We strayed off the conditioned track every now and then so that Snowflake could show me something interesting. Skiing on snow that hasn’t been compacted was generally something I would never do. It’s hard. Very hard. I should say hard using traditional Nordic skiing methods. But, with the oval stepping action, I found I got good traction even on loose snow. Snowflake called it ‘snowshoeing’. We actually ‘climbed’ a couple of snowbanks doing this ‘snowshoeing’ thing. After a vigorous workout getting there we finally arrived at the spot where Snowflake wanted me to see something in particular.

Something was indeed what I saw. It took me a minute to remember how to breathe! We’d come to a stop just before a cliff where a view opened up into a wide expanse spreading between two parallel mountain ranges. For what seemed leagues and leagues there were pine trees! I could smell them as the cold wind reach up to us from the ravine. The smell was like being in the biggest Christmas tree yard in the history of Christmas! It was the epitome of ‘Fresh Scented’!

But, as cool as that was, it was what I could see just beyond the forest toward the eastern horizon that just made my jaw drop. I could see Lake Tahoe! In the distance, it looked like a deep blue sky that had fallen to the earth. I could see a shimmer or two as the sun reflected off some of the bigger lake waves. It looked like a giant sapphire! I was totally dumbfounded!

Snowflake asked me: ‘Well? Isn’t it pretty?’ He was smiling and excited like that kid you always see helping dad pick out that Christmas Tree from the aforementioned Christmas Tree yard. I don’t think he’d ever shown this view to anyone else before.

I don’t think he quite understood my reaction at first because I had to look down and away from him and wipe my eyes. The beauty of this place and the memory of Jamal not being able to see it this way caused a conflict of emotions. Joy and sorrow. Pleasure and pain. But mostly, a deeper sense of Snowflake’s star bright soul. He lived for places like this! He appreciated them and, most of all, he loved them.

Now . . . he was sharing them with me! My God, how in love I am with him!

That’s when I dropped my poles, shuffled over to Snowflake, grabbed him, and pulled him into the deepest most succulent kiss either of us had ever known up to that point. When I finally released Snowflake’s lips with a smack he was panting and so adorably flushed.

“Th-thanks, Snowflake. Thanks for, um, showing me this place. It sure is . . . pretty.” I managed to get out before having to clear my throat and get a grip.

Pretty. I had to chuckle. Pretty wasn’t the word to describe this breathtaking picture postcard, but the way Snowflake used it with such innocent enthusiasm rekindled in me something I had not felt in many a year. I felt like . . . that kid again: innocent and fully aware. Pure! Living for Christmas and totally infatuated with my surroundings and especially in who I was with.

I turned and continued to look on in contemplative silence. This childlike wonder rose in me and then transcended the child to become the breath that feeds a man’s soul. When looking at places like this, you can’t help but feel like it’s sacred. I’ve thought that many times when coming up here. This place is sacred! I can almost believe in God for a moment.

But, then I felt strong gentle arms encircle my torso under my arms and I felt a firm body pressed up against my back as I was captured in a gentle hug. I felt a chin come to rest softly on my right shoulder and I can felt the breath of God in my ear. I felt myself soften and conform to that embrace, yielding to it with all of my being.

The Angel sighed contentedly as he felt my perfect acceptance of his love. I leaned my head up against his and he reciprocated.

“I’m so glad that you like it, Kultaseni.” and then he kissed my neck and my hands found his on either side of my tummy. I squeezed them.

We stood like that for a while, I suppose. I don’t think time makes much difference in places such as this and with a love as strong as ours. We both seemed to be weightless and timeless as we held each other and watched the sunlight play on the sapphire waters of Lake Tahoe in the clear treelined distance.

Today something grabbed hold of us both, or rather we grabbed hold of it. Sort of like when I was finding that I could actually grab the snow with the skies if I just made a slight change in movement.

Today Snowflake and I gained traction. Our skis took ahold of what we had found in each other and proved that it was solid.

Snowflake is my soulmate. I had found him. There was no question.

He needed to come with me. He needed to come with me back to San Francisco. So . . . I told him of Jamal.

My story made Snowflake turn me in his arms and kiss me with such passion. His eyes had tears. Mine must have had too because he was using his gloved thumb to remove the stray tears from my cheeks.

“I will come with you, Brian.” Snowflake said with simple finality.

“Wait a sec, Snowplow.” I stood away from his embrace but kept hold of his hands. I needed to look him in the eyes.

“You got clients here and responsibilities. I don’t wanna make you do something dumb just on my account. Sure, I’d love for you to come with me to the City, but what about your practice here?” I had to be sure he knew what he was doing was right for him. It would be selfish of me to drag Snowflake away from all of what he’d built here. This I felt even though I knew better than my own name that . . .

. . . Snowflake needed to come with me!

He merely smiled and that turned into a little derisive chuckle. He said: “My duties here end when the snows melt, Brian. The rest of the year I’m either getting ready for competitions, going home to visit my family in Finland, or doing clinics in Val Gardena in Italy. A lot of years, I just bum around wherever! I won’t be doing anything dumb! I’ll be back here come next October when the first storms start to come through.” Snowflake reassured.

Somehow, though, even if things were going to be busy here for the next few months Snowflake would have happily abandoned Auburn Ski Camp to go with me anywhere. I could see it there in his eyes.

“Ok. What about Sabrina and Jimmy? Where do they go? Particularly Sabrina?” It probably wasn’t fair of me to ask. I’m an asshole, though, so I did. I am also a scientist. I have to test everything.

That did manage to take Snowflake aback a little, to my sorrow. He still felt for her. But of course, why wouldn’t he? After five years together what could I expect?

“I do not know what she will do. That . . . is up to her, I guess.” Snowflake said sadly, examining the snow at his feet.

He looked up at me with a kind of agony and I instantly regretted my stupid little ‘test’. My God, I’m such a complete dickwad sometimes!

“I–I suppose . . .” He sighs and his shoulders sag, but he never lets go of my hands.

“I suppose that the thing is . . . if I don’t hurt her then I won’t ever know what you and I are meant to be, Brian.” His eyes follow mine, pleading and hoping I can understand this rawly honest statement.

The look. The statement. The honesty. The aching need in his eyes. These were the only answers I needed for my little fucking ‘test’.

Snowflake felt the very same as I did! He loved me to distraction and nothing would stand in his way. Perhaps, he loved me even more than I did him. Though interestingly, he never could say it outright, I’d noticed.

This should be a tell of something wrong, but, in fact, he never had to say it at all to me. I could see the love and I could definitely feel it in every kiss, every hug, every lingering gaze, and every mind-blowing orgasm. This truth needed no words. Words cheapened it, actually.

But then it had only been a couple of weeks. What are weeks to five years? That was how long Sabrina and Snowflake had been together. I had seen how intimate they were. I wanted Snowflake to really understand what he was deciding.

“Just think about things before you go making any big decisions, Baby. I don’t want you to do anything you aren’t ready for. I know that you and Sabrina were . . . close.” Probably the hardest words I’ve ever spoken. But, I owed him time. I loved him too much to see him hurt should he make a choice so against his conscience.

Snowflake’s eyes narrowed slightly and his jaw firmed up in a way that worried me. I had offended him. I had hurt him with my laissez-faire. But, it was not that way.

He said, “I’ll go with you to San Francisco. Do not worry about Sabrina. She is her own woman and I am my own man. But, you are MY man!” with that he literally picked me up off the ground bodily, skis and all, and kissed me hard on the lips! I was made breathless!

Setting me down and allowing me to catch my breath for a minute he got a rather wicked grin on his face. It was strange and funny after so much drama. I notice Snowflake can’t hold strong emotions for long before having to switch to a completely opposite set of emotions.

He began to lope down the slight slope from the promontory overlooking the valley. I followed awkwardly.

“I’ll race you back to the lodge! Whoever loses has to buy dinner and be ‘top’ tonight! Hehehehe!” Snowflake’s giddy laughter was childlike in its silliness showing that same polarization in emotion. He really is changeable! Not unlike alpine weather.

“I’ll even the playing field. I’ll stick to traditional Nordic classic style skiing and you can use whatever works for you! I’m not as good at classical Nordic as I am with sprint skiing or skate skiing.” Snowflake used a reassuring tone that really wasn’t reassuring at all for me. Even if my knee were fully back to strength, I’d never catch the Master in his chosen profession. Snowflake had been doing this all his life. He is skiing incarnate!

I’m just a hobbyist.

Throwing caution to the wind we start and I immediately go into the ‘sprint’ stride that Snowflake had shown me a little earlier. I found it surprisingly easy to master because it was almost the same movements as a forward slalom except on the relatively flat surface of the cross-country course. Each stride pushes me the length of two classical Nordic shuffles.

At first, it seemed that I was overtaking Snowflake with his shuffling Nordic glide but soon I found myself panting and getting hot from exertion. Necessarily my pace slowed. Snowflake shuffled past me like he was taking an easy stroll in the park!

I transitioned to the power strokes of the skate skiing technique. What Snowflake calls a ‘ski walk’. This pushed me forward in long broad strokes. I refrained from overhead polling because that would expend too much energy. I just used my poles for balance as Snowflake had shown me.

I soon overtook Snowflake’s steady shuffling gait and from somewhere I caught a rhythm. The rhythm kept me going at a constant pace inside the movements of ski skating. Once I found that rhythm I got better traction on the snow and I felt my glutes engage. I shifted naturally to using my butt to push me rather than my legs. The more powerful muscles in my ass drove me with more strength and speed than just using my thighs and legs. I didn’t tire as quickly either.

By some strange decision-making process driven by my body’s movements, I settled forward in my posture and my skis started to cut into the snow at their outside edges. This gave me a new purchase on the snow and I was suddenly employing both skate skiing techniques with classical techniques and my shuffle-walk made my skis turn into knives in the snow.

I moved faster and faster in the snow. I began polling overhand by reflex as I picked up speed. The rolling cutting movements of my feet in the snow maximized my traction while at the same time applying the waxed flats of the skis to slip forward and up. Cut, forward, up, down, backslide…cut, forward, up, down, backslide.

I was moving like a razor through the snow and before I knew it I was back at the lodge . . . all by myself!

I recovered my breath and turned to look just as Snowflake came Ski Walking up the course toward me with a giant grin on his face!

“You have the finest ass on the snow! I think I won the bet even though I lost! I shall plunder you tonight after seeing that performance!” He teased seductively.

“How . . . ?” I was dumbfounded!

“You caught your ski style, Razorman! That technique is uniquely yours! No one else can do it! You are a born champion!” He grabbed me in a tight embrace and kissed my ears . . . both of them!

“Brian “The Razor” Chesney! I already see your name in lights!” Snowflake’s eyes sparkled as he said it. I noticed he was panting a bit to catch his breath.

I just giggled.

We proceeded arm and arm to the Ski House to undo the skis and then go down again into the sauna to unwind the muscles.

I secretly think that Snowflake did that on purpose, of course. I’m sure he could have easily overtaken me . . . though he was panting when he did catch up to me!

Maybe . . .

Maybe, Maybe.



I can’t get this lump out of my throat, seeing them out there coming back from their little ski jaunt. I’ve never seen Snowflake so happy before. I have never, ever seen him smile like that! Brian has exposed something in my Blanco Boy that I never could . . . pure joy!

Oh, I’m glad I have my water-resistant mascara on. I’d look a fright I’m sure . . . crying as I have been today. It shouldn’t hurt like this. Snowflake and I are just ‘friends with benefits’ after all.

After all . . .

You know? I don’t even know what that means. What the hell is a ‘friend with benefits’? Not a lover and not just a friend, but something maddeningly in between. Maybe, it’s just a lie we tell ourselves so that we don’t have to do that dreaded ‘committment’ thing.

It came from the 1970s, I’m sure. My dad used to talk about how he and my mom used to ‘swing’ all the time at ‘swingers parties’. He said it was fun exploring new sexual partners who were just friends and not more deeply attached than that.

Of course, dad still has that scar on his arm from the time someone broke a champagne bottle and tried to kill him with it at one of those ‘free love’ parties! It’s a lie then. You can’t get intimate with someone and just use them like a box of candy – eat ’em up and just throw them away.

Interestingly, my mom and dad split when I was 16. I blamed myself, of course. Being a teen somehow everything has to be about you. The world begins and ends with what you do or feel. I was sure it was my ‘Gayness’ or rather ‘effeminate’ ways that drove my dad away. I’d never be the football star or the track star he required of his son. I rather go shopping than tossing a stupid ball around. I didn’t have a competitive bone in my body except where the girls were concerned.

I used to shop with them and they’d get so jealous when I’d look so fine in my outfits and I’d attract male attention. I was a boy then, but even so, I was attractive to other guys who were either questioning or outright gay. The girls never could make the distinction.

They all knew I was gay and loved that they could have a gay friend, but couldn’t figure out how a guy would be the most popular one of their little troupe with boys. Some tried to ‘turn’ me and one very aggressive girl named Carley practically raped me one time!

She had a good time, but I didn’t particularly and it broke her heart when she’d discovered what she’d done. It was a violation of a kind unknown in the non-transgendered community. She is still my very best friend to this day. I’d long since forgiven her and she was really the first to think I may be more than just gay . . . that I may actually be a girl under all that boy flesh!

She has 3 lovely children now and is married to a hunk of a man who works as a crane operator. I visit from time to time. Steven, her husband, and her boys, Josh, Ray, and Morgan, all think that I am ‘Aunt Sabrina’. None of them know of my transgendered nature. I will likely never tell them. Hopefully, in the not too distant future, I will have had the corrective surgery I need to complete me and there won’t be any need for my hiding . . . anything.

Oh yeah, that’s right. That can never happen now. I forget that everything is hopeless.

I watch Snowflake and Brian go off to the Ski House. They’ll sauna together again. I hear them in there sometimes. I can’t help but snoop. I know its a bit sick of me, but, I figure it is the closest I will ever come again to hearing Snowflake’s cries of ecstasy. I won’t do it today. I have had enough of the needles in my heart.

I love that man, God help me.

No . . . God won’t help me, but, I know what does.

I know . . . what does.

As soon as I feel the needle pinch in my arm I know what helps. I haven’t needed it in a while. I haven’t wanted it much for the past 5 years. But, I need it again. It never leaves me. All I have to do is go buy some and it’s there for me. It doesn’t fall in love with other people and run away from you. It is forever . . .

It is Euphoria!

I feel it’s warm glow fill my veins like liquid gold and soon I don’t care anymore. I find love in its warm internal embrace. It is sex. It is purpose. It is a resolution to all my pain for as long as I have needed it. Ever since what happened made any future changes to my body impossible.

I no longer have to feel the cleated feet of the football players gaining traction on my flesh. Where they kicked me in to make me ‘really a girl’.

Would that I had died that day. But, I have my dear friend to undo what my twisted DNA has done to me.

Euphoria! Your fatal kiss . . . is all I need!

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