Tahoe Traverse
I looked up from my computer on Thursday afternoon; 2pm. The itch had become unbearable. I could drive to Tahoe now to avoid traffic and then finish up my work-day remotely when I got to the cabin. Done! I raced out the office door, got home and through the usual into my car, and was on the road by 3pm.
Squaw
I woke up early to a cold Friday morning, through on running shorts over my long-johns and was out the door by 7am for a run. These runs have somehow become incorporated into my Tahoe routine now and I look at them as training for my impossible alpine traverse currently on the slate for Labor Day weekend. Running at elevation in the freezing cold, check. By 9am I had showered, eaten my granola and downed most of the contents of a pot of coffee. I once again through the necessary gear in the car and was racing full-bore, towards the mountain. It had just snowed the day before and the conditions at Squaw were pretty great for such a bad snow year. I skied my favorite runs, got off trail when I could and generally just kicked my own ass. I find when you ski alone you usually get more worked than when skiing with friends. You don't take breaks and there's no one to recommend a mid-day beer at the lodge.
Alpine
Saturday morning saw a repeat of my morning 6 mile run, but instead of being 23 degrees outside it was 16. It was so cold in fact that my iPhone decided it was too cold to work and it shut itself down. Regardless of the temps, once you get going, your body warms up and the run isn't that bad. Training!
I met Pat at 9am at the coffee shop across the street from The Backcountry in Truckee. We consolidated vehicles and this time headed for Alpine Meadows. Compared to Friday, the snow conditions on Saturday were miserable. The groomers where crusty and icy and everything off the normal runs was rocky and I probably fucked up my skis a few times. By 1pm my quads were burning and my legs refused to do another tele turn. We went up for one more run on the Summit lift and doing a black diamond mogul run with tired legs probably wasn't the best idea. I made it down though, tired and beaten up and ready for a beer. We made a stop at Mellow Fellow in Truckee on the way back and thoroughly enjoyed the Obsidian Stout they had on tap. That evening Jeff and Diane made it to town and the four of us, along with the other 5 cabin mates that were in town sat down to a feast of turkey chili, corn bread, and an amazing salad from the Swiss Chard, Kale and Arugula that Jeff and Diane brought up from Toni and Loren's garden. The night ended with everyone sitting down and watching Valhalla and dreaming of powder days to come; we haven't lost hope yet.
I met Pat at 9am at the coffee shop across the street from The Backcountry in Truckee. We consolidated vehicles and this time headed for Alpine Meadows. Compared to Friday, the snow conditions on Saturday were miserable. The groomers where crusty and icy and everything off the normal runs was rocky and I probably fucked up my skis a few times. By 1pm my quads were burning and my legs refused to do another tele turn. We went up for one more run on the Summit lift and doing a black diamond mogul run with tired legs probably wasn't the best idea. I made it down though, tired and beaten up and ready for a beer. We made a stop at Mellow Fellow in Truckee on the way back and thoroughly enjoyed the Obsidian Stout they had on tap. That evening Jeff and Diane made it to town and the four of us, along with the other 5 cabin mates that were in town sat down to a feast of turkey chili, corn bread, and an amazing salad from the Swiss Chard, Kale and Arugula that Jeff and Diane brought up from Toni and Loren's garden. The night ended with everyone sitting down and watching Valhalla and dreaming of powder days to come; we haven't lost hope yet.
Sierra Tahoe
Jeff, Diane Erica and I had skied Sierra Tahoe back in December. They all bought a 3-packs of lift tickets and the motivation for this month's trip to Sierra was that Jeff and Diane had one pass left. We all woke up early on Sunday morning and had plans to be out the door by 8:30, which I think we hit. We headed for South Lake navigating the icy roads as the snow started coming down again.
Wells joined us around 11am and we skied until 4pm when we were again too tired for another turn. We sat down in the Corona Cantina at West Bowl and enjoyed a beer with our PB&J sandwiches in a warm room as the temperatures outside dropped.
The drive home was lonely without a roadtrip companion so I put on the Super Bowl. I honestly had no idea what the hell they were talking about. What the hell is a secondary anyways? And why doesn't anyone like this guy named Sherman? Entertaining none the less, and enough to occupy my thoughts as I drove in the wrong direction, away from the mountains.