I went snowboarding on Winter Park’s closing day.  It was a warm sunny day.  During lunch I sat outside the restaurant at the top of the mountain.  There are lounge patio type chairs out in the snow just outside the restaurant.  Most of them were full and all facing the short path from the top of the ski lift to where the ski run starts.  It was a rowdy crowd and almost all the chairs were full, but we managed to find a couple of chairs.  Some people are dressed up in silly costumes, some are stripped down to just a t shirt because it’s so warm.  All are fortified with snowballs.  So, after I see what is going on, I start making some snowballs because I feel that is my obligation based on where I am sitting.  There are about 30 people lounging and anyone that tries to ski by is at risk of a one-sided snowball fight.  I quickly learn that I’m not very good at throwing snowballs at moving targets, not a surprising discovery.  Of course, the three girls skiing in their bikinis get quite a large number of snowballs.  The ski patrol guy thought he should be exempt, but he wasn’t.  Women and children were not safe in this war.  Costumes got more snow fire.  People that tried to escape did not.  People that mooned us or egged us on got pummeled.  Some people figured out what was going on as they were coming up the lift or because they had run the gauntlet before.  They came with a snowball or two for us.  In times of little to no traffic the loungers turned to friendly fire.  But the ones that got the most snow fire were the ones who decided to leave the lounge chairs and take a run.  I think I hung out there for 2 hours before I took off.  My arm hurt the next day from throwing so many snowballs.