Heavy Metal-Leg

It's a compound fracture in two places on my right leg. As of yesterday my ankle-area there has been filled with some kind of metal and screws. Six to eight weeks to recover, and it's my driving leg.
Shit. Ice. There goes plan 259-b for getting out of this place. I was ready to work as a busboy in restaurants in New Orleans whose owners my family knows. The one job requirement, however, is being able to move.
The funny thing, of course, is that I like ice. I see it and think of the Clash's "Straight to Hell." It's about the Amerasian kids born in Vietnam after our presence there. They think of the north and it's "clear as winter ice, this is your paradise." There is apparently a group now called "Clear As Winter Ice." Google it.
Last year was so snowless I went all the way to Stowe, Vt., to cross country ski through the mountain woods of the Van Trappe (of Sound of Music) family's lodge and land.
I still highly recommend Stowe. No commercial chains are allowed, so there are great local places. I wonder if I can ski one-legged.