The hopeful rain on Wednesday night turned into a rain disaster on Thursday morning. It was raining and +1 degree Celsius at the top of the Whistler Mountain gondola. I’ve never skied in the rain, so these were the worst conditions I’d ever encountered. I was skiing through slurpee and so tired of being wet I wore a plastic bag over my clothes. The conditions on Friday looked to be the same so we gave up sliding that day. Instead, Jen, Andrew, Bryan and I checked out the 2010 Olympic Nordic skiing area and learned about loppets, the fun-runs of the cross-country skiing world. We ended the afternoon at the Scandinave Spa, a collection of hot and cold pools deep in the cedars and firs. The spa insisted on quiet, so I spent a nice hour or two in a fluffy robe, reading the new Cleopatra biography. Bryan and I also got massages, which worked out all the kinks and discontents of the previous day.