Oooo, you heli skiers are so hardcore. But for those of us who don’t wear short-sleeve baselayers so we can admire our own forearms, cat skiing suits just fine. I’ll still think about you, though...when you’re grounded—reading a bad mystery novel all day in a tiny, double-occupancy room next to some dude whose snoring makes the water ripple in your glass—because it’s, you know, snowing. And when our song comes up on my new BFF’s iPod as we churn back up the track for our 12th lap of steep, over-the-head blower. Oh yeah, after your four days of heli are over, two of which you actually flew on, can you pick me up at the airport? Because I can afford to ski here all week. If not, oh well. Our tail guide is suuuuuper cute.