You know the feeling. The night before hitting the slopes, you're anxious with anticipation. Instead of sugar plums, crystalline snowflakes are dancing in your head, beckoning you to come play.

The mountain waits, reaching across the distance, whispering in your ear, "I'll see you soon. And pick me up a coffee on your way over."

You arrive.

The day is a glorious, powder skimming dream. It's just like you imagined, your skills haven't deserted you over the course of the year. Yes indeed, you've still "got it."

But then the afternoon hits. That subtle ache in your calves and hamstrings hangs around just a little longer...just a little longer. Until you realize that burn has edged beyond the good burn - that "I'm feeling the burn," type of satisfied burn.

Pretty soon you're struggling to make it down a full run without pondering what you're muscles will feel like the next morning. (Or even earlier, though an apres beverage will take care of that temporarily).

You think back on the past summer months when you could have been preparing for the astoundingly ripe ski conditions.

Dread rises in your chest as you wonder if you'll have it in you to crawl out of bed and hit the slopes again for a second, bliss-filled day. Your heart races, even as your legs become the jelly they've staved off for the last few hours. Until...

Suddenly you awake!

It's not the night before your ski trip after all. In fact, it's the summer and you have months to get your muscles in shape for the glorious pow.

Luckily I've scoured the net and found some workouts to get you started.

• Tips For Weekend Warrors (from About.com) - Great article detailing how to build endurance and strength through a variety of exercises; also includes a comprehensive ski workout.
• Ski Like Bode Miller: Preseason Workout (from NG Adventure) - For those types that enjoy an unconvential workout (bounding over rocks, pushing a stone-filled wheelbarrow up a hill), then this article is for you; the oddly hilarious illustrations are a highlight too.
• One-Minute Workout For Skiers & Snowboarders (from AskMen.com) - Whether you're a skier or a snowboarder, this article details an easy and effective way to increase leg muscle strength.

There you are, enjoying your day on the mountain, skimming along the pow, whipping through the trees, not a care in your toque.

But suddenly, dark clouds gather ominously above, hinting at dire conditions to come. Would you be prepared for just such a situation?

If you read Snowsafe's online guide to alpine safety, you just might.

Here's what they have to say on clothing...

On driving...

On food...

The rest of the online safety guide contains more great tips for children, equipment, and caring for the environment.

Read the whole guide here.

What alpine safety tips would you add to the list?

If you're like me, you've been looking forward to the day when you can take your kids skiing with you for the very first time.

Skiing is an activity that transcends the idea of "sport" for me. It combines skill, athleticism and harmony with nature; what could be better! I began skiing at the age three and despite breaking my leg at that tender age I never looked back. I have always considered it to be one the things I love to do most in life.

So naturally, you want to share it with your children. And you want to get them started at an early age so that they build confidence as they grow older, and hopefully become as passionate about it as you are.

Well, the picture doesn't necessarily match the reality in my case.

This past Christmas I decided that I would introduce skiing to my son Ben up at Whistler, B.C. (curiously, or frighteningly if you are my wife, he is three years old, the same age I was for my little mis-hap).

When I pictured the event in my mind, I saw Ben & I laughing as we snow-plowed down the bunny-hill, chuckling as we occasionally fall in a heap.

The reality? We never made it to the hill. Gauging the volume of his objection to the idea as we approached the ski rental shop - everyone within earshot would have concurred - he's just not ready....yet.

So, what to do next?

What could I have done differently, or better yet, what can I do to prepare him for next time? Here's some of the things I'd suggest before attaching what a 3yr old sees as large, clumsy wooden sticks that disable their ability to walk:

1. Do NOT force them to go skiing

The last thing you want to do is imprint them with skiing = no fun

2. Go to a local tobogganing hill first

The sensation of sliding takes some getting used to, something that I can't even remember experiencing for the first time. Whistler has an exceptional Tube Park. They will love it. And if you think you won't have just as much fun as your kids, think again.

3. Get them excited by the idea in the weeks prior

"We're going skiing together, wohoo!" I did this with Ben and he was genuinely looking forward to the idea of it, at least.

4. Book your ski rentals at the hill

Up at Whistler they have a great program available called the 'Ski Lease' pass. It goes on sale in September/October and for $130 + tax your kids can get a pass which permits them to rent skis/boots/poles for the entire season; awesome deal. You leave the equipment at the hill and pick it up each time you want to rent.

5. Get them into lessons

One of the things I've heard from friends who have their kids in lessons is that they will listen to their instructor sooner than they listen to you (no, you say, it can't be!) Why fight it?

Yes it's fun to have them join you on the hill, but it's important to start them off on the right foot and have them learn from the experts. Plus it gives you the opportunity to selfishly ski away the day occasionally on your own! Whistler Blackcomb has excellent programs in place: visit here for more details.

Finally, don't give up if it doesn't work out the first few times. Like anything, it's a learning experience, for both of you.

Good luck!

So get this: you're in Whistler, Fernie, or another ski resort after a day of epic conditions.

You snapped some amazing pics throughout the day, and now you want to share them with your friends and family (they're so good, you just can't wait until you get home).

You head to the local internet cafe (or if you're lucky, maybe there's an internet connection in your ski resort accommodation). You upload your pics from your digital camera to the computer. (They look even better full screen). You narrow the plethora of choice down to your top 10 pictures.

Now, how do you share them with the world?

If you have your own blog or online photography community, you can just upload them to your site and email your friends and family to notify them of your content. Or you may want to email them directly, but this can cause problems if your photos are gigantic in size and overflow meager email accounts.

The other problem: you notice a couple pictures aren't quite as good as they could be. You think they could use some sharpening, a selective crop, and perhaps a touch of contrast.

Here's where Piknik comes in handy.

It's part of a new crop of photography websites that let you edit your photos right online, for free. I consider myself an amateur photography buff with a fair understanding of full-featured editing programs like Photoshop, and I have to say Piknik is really really cool for editing your pics on the road.

It's super fast, easy to use, and let's you import your photos from a variety of sources: your computer, another website, from your webcam, anywhere. And when you're done, you can export the image, crop it, compress it to fit easily on the web or in an email to your friends and family.

So check it out now! And if you want to check out a couple other similar websites, here's some further reading of services compared.

This is the conclusion of this series, where I share the experience of learning to ski for the first time.

So there I was, alone, riding the gondola back down to the base of Whistler mountain. I cursed the ill-fitted skis that forced me to depart from my beginner's lessons even before they had begun.

But then I noticed the peculiar clarity that arises from sitting by yourself in a gondola.

I watched as the pods packed with other fresh-faced skiers and boarders passed on their way up the slopes. I gazed out upon the beautiful blue sky and the glittering snow-caked peaks, and realized quickly that if the worst thing that happened to me today was missing 40 minutes of my ski lesson, I'd be lucky.

Turns out the guy at Whistler equipment rentals had simply made a mistake. He'd marked my boot size incorrectly. After apologizing profusely, he resized the skis lickety split -- and as fast as you can say "Is that a drunk Aussie wearing nothing but a cape and underwear?" I was back up to mid-station and learning how to side-step in skis.

Mike, my AlluraDirect.com colleague also in beginner's lessons, revealed I hadn't missed much. "You step with this ski, then with this ski. That's it." No problem.

Our ski instructor Maggie had us move on to the aptly named "snowplow; the only way a newbie will be able to stop once they start sliding. Basically, the technique involves spreading your legs while pointing your skis inwards, creating a pizza shape that effectively plows the snow until you stop. (I would later learn that 'snowplow' only works when you're skiing under 3mph).

Learning the snowplow took until lunch, when we broke and headed up to the Roundhouse at Whister's Peak. Some stunning views and a $15 rice bowl later, Mike and I had joined up with the rest of our team and attempted our next skill – the "Knee Touch and Turn."

Here's how it works: start sliding, when you want to turn, touch both hands to your knee, turn, slide, repeat. Looks a bit funny in practice but surprisingly, you actually turn -- albeit ever so slowly and with an arc the size of a SUV.

From there we practiced regular turning, which including the lean but without touching your hands to your knee. Brilliant.

But 3pm the sun was retiring behind the peak and casting long shadows on our beginner's training snow. Maggie gathered us all together and praised us as the most competent group she'd ever instructed (I'll bet she tells that to all her beginner's).

Mike and I, confident in our newfound abilities, were dying to actually try a run with some speed.

"Would it be okay if we hitched a ride up the Olympic Chair?" we asked. She shook her head with an emphatic, "No! I do not recommend it. It's too dangerous for you to go up there as beginner's. If you like, you can stay in the flat area and continue practicing."

We asked her if we could at least ski down to the Whistler base. Again, she shook her head, "That's even worse! You have skiers and boarders racing down that run like crazy. I strongly ask you to take the gondola down when you're done." With that, she left us.

Defeated, Mike and I decided to stick around in the beginner's area. Only problem, we discovered they'd closed the magic carpet that whisked us to the top of the slight incline. Now we couldn't even practice the easy part.

We turned to each other. "Olympic chair?" We nodded.

Moments later we were sitting in our first ski lift, our legs dangling above the snow. I unabashedly buzzed with anticipation. Our first green run. How exciting!

The end of the lift deposited us at the top of the slope. Far below, our beginner's area seemed miniscule compared to the snowy hills we'd have to navigate to get back to it. "You ready?" Mike asked.

"Let's do this." I replied, with all the necessary bravado.

We leapt off into the unknown, and suddenly I was skiing – not like a beginner learning to ski, but as an actual skier, molding my form to the slopes, following its curves, navigating the dips, skimming the powder.

In a word: magnificent.

Immediately I was hooked. We skied back to the beginner's training area, with the mid-mountain gondola humming patiently. I moved to unlatch my skies.

"You sure you don't want to ski down?" asked Mike.

"Really? You think this is an easy run?" I said, slightly skeptical, with Maggie's warning still fresh in my mind.

"No problem. I watched some other skiers head down their and we're better than them for sure." Mike made a convincing argument. Either that or I was still blissfully unaware of just how fast someone can go when staring down an actual slope.

"Okay," I made up my mind. We gathered our resolve and crept to the edge of the run to the Whistler Base. Wow, it seemed much steeper from our new position. My heart anticipated the coming exertion.

"Let's do this."

As previously mentioned, last Friday I journeyed to Whistler for my first day of skiing. Ever. What's it like to try skiing for the first time? Read on...

We arrived just as the sun was just peeking into the village. The sky overhead was clear, no clouds sullied the horizon. It was going to be a beautiful day.

Crowds were everywhere at the base of Whistler mountain. Scores of Aussie's filled the outdoor patio of the Longhorn, while the lineup for the gondola to the peak was wrapped in sinuous rows – everything eager with anticipation of first tracks.

Of course, the gondola line wasn't for me.

Mike, (another AlluraDirect employee his beginner ski lessons) and I debated where to stand in the crowd, while cradling our rented skis and poles. The guy behind the Whistler ski lessons desk had told us to stand "near the red flag" but the only red flag we could find had "Snowboarding School" emblazoned across it.

So we wandered around -- dressed in some high-quality ski gear from Whistler Winter Wear, trying our best to look lost.

Finally, we spied some smaller yellow flags that mentioned Ski school and approached a ski instructor. "We're here for the ski school," I told her.

"Okay what level?" she asked.

I wasn't sure if there was a category for "Complete Ski Virgin" so I just said, "Level I."

We were told to stay put and wait for the instructor assigned to us. Mike and I obliged. Moments later, another ski beginner arrived, looking just as bewildered as us. "Ski school?" he spoke in a thick Southern accent. We nodded, asked him where we was from.

"Well, I was in Vegas this week, but originally from Louisiana." Quite the trip, from the desert to the snowy mountains, I remarked. "I'm going sky diving next week," he added. "Only live once right?"

Mike and I, anticipating the unknown experiences we would have on our first day on the slopes, agreed.

Half an hour later, all 8 of us and our instructor "Maggie" (can't remember her real name) were packed into a our own gondola, riding up the mountain.

Each of us introduced ourselves: a woman from London, Ontario, a software company owner from Vancouver, our previous friend of Lousiana, and Maggie, who had been coming to Whistler mountain for over 20 years.

We unloaded at the mid-base and emerged into the brilliant white of the snow covered slopes. Maggie told us to lay our skis on the ground, and instructed us in the finer points of clicking in your ski boots. Each of us in turn succeeded, until me.

I placed my boot into the ski track and awaited the satisfying 'click.' No click came. In fact, the boot didn't appear to fit into the ski at all.

I asked Maggie about it, who immediately noticed the rental ski wasn't sized for my boots. "Are you sure these are yours?" she asked. I nodded. These skis hadn't been out of my sight since collecting them from the basement of the Whistler equipment rental shop.

Maggie asked everyone else if their skies fit properly. They did.

"I'm so sorry, but you'll have to go back to the rental shop and have them resize your skis," she explained.

My heart sunk. That would take, at minimum, 30-40 minutes to ride the gondola back down, walk to the rental shop, fix the skis, then ride back up. But it appeared I had no choice.