Skiing Archive

You just have to love Ski Cross (aka skiercross or Skier-X). It's crazy. It's insane. It's wicked and wild and wooly and just so much fun to watch. I really don't know how these guys do it. It's the sport of tube-fed, genetically-modified (oft alcohol fueled) adrenalin junkies.

If you're not familiar with it, this is how it goes. Four skiers race simultaneously down a winding snake of a course filled with bumps, jumps, and steeply banked turns. Competitors are not supposed to push, shove, or elbow each other, but in a sport that's like roller derby down the bobsled run, you won't get penalized if you don't get caught.

Naturally, the risk is high and the crashes can be severe, but these guys are tough and probably little mental. American Daron Rahlves, previously an Olympian in the Apline events, crashed horribly just three weeks ago at the X-Games and dislocated his hip. But that didn't stop him from competing in Vancouver.

Skicross has long been a part of the Winter X Games but was added as a full-medal sport in the Olympic lineup for 2010 after it received recognition from the IOC. I highly recommend checking out the vids on the NBC website, if you didn't catch the broadcast.

*If you don't get this reference it probably mean you're weren't a male teen in the mid-80s. sorry

It's really beyond the pale how bad NBC is at covering Alpine Skiing at the Vancouver Olympics. The latest joke the Men's Giant Slalom. NBC only bothered to show 4 of the runs in the first round (each skier gets two runs): Carlo Janko, who finished in first, Aksel Lund Svindal, third, American Ted Ligety, in eigth place, and Bode Miller, who caught a tip and didn't finish. They failed to show Romeo Baumann, second, Massimiliano Blardone, fourth, Marcel Hirsher, fifth, Benjamin Raish, sixth, Cyprien Richard, seveth or any other skiers.

They showed all of three skiers on the second run. Three? Three is all we get? Bode crashed out so they didn't have to show him again, but why not show Ligety? Why not show the first run of the eventual silver medalist, Kjetil Jansrud of Norway? Other Americans? Anyone? Bueller? It's on tape delay, so they can program it anyway they want. They show qualifying for freestyle skiing, yet they won't show the meat and potatoes Alpine events. What gives?

They must really, really suck or not care.

Some good news on the skiing safety front:

Helmets Becoming More Common on the Ski Slopes

Helmet use has increased rapidly over the past few years, in large part because of the attention brought by a rash of high-profile accidents involving celebrities. Michael Kennedy, Sonny Bono and Natasha Richardson were all killed in ski accidents, and none of them were wearing helmets.

These days, the National Ski Areas Association says, nearly half of all skiers and snowboarders in the United States wear helmets, up from 25 percent in the 2002-3 ski season. Helmets are selling at a record pace this season, according to SnowSports Industries America, a trade association. And helmets, once viewed as clunky and awkward looking, are starting to be seen as hip.

"Helmet styles and fitting options have come a long way in the last five seasons, particularly for children," said Troy Hawks, a spokesman for the ski areas association, which recommends that all skiers and snowboarders wear them. "You can look more like a professional athlete."

It used to be that the only helmets you'd see were on young kids with no poles bombing down the mountain. Nowadays, they are everywhere. I've been wearing a helmet for a several years now. It took me a long time to find one that didn't make me feel like Kazoo, but once I did, I was really happy. I ski under control, so I wear it in case some idiot snowboarder crashes into me. Plus it keeps my head nice and toasty on those cold, cold days on the slopes.

Who would have guessed that resorts would be less than truthful about their snow levels?

Study: Ski Resorts Tell Tall Tales About Deep Snow

Researchers at Dartmouth College have confirmed something that skiers and snowboarders have long suspected: Resorts sometimes boost their snowfall reports to attract more customers.

Eric Zitzewitz and Jon Zinman are both associate professors of economics and fans of snow sports. In their report, Wintertime for Deceptive Advertising, they found that ski areas report more snowfall on the weekends, and that there is no such "weekend effect" in government weather data.

Zinman says they gathered snowfall totals from ski area Web sites and then compared those numbers with government weather data. According to Zinman, resorts reported 23 percent more snow on weekends. And the resorts that had the most to gain by fluffing up their numbers did more of it.

At the end of the day, resorts are profit making businesses with an eye on the bottom line. So what's a little deception to their customers if it helps the bottom line? Whatever.

It saddens me that I only skied two days last season and I'm not sure how much snow time I'm going to get this year.

So my day of skiing at Sugar Bowl, my first of this season, is in the books. It was a spectacular ski day, Mid 50s, sunny and not a cloud in the blue sky. The snow wasn't fantastic, but as it hadn't snowed in weeks, it was as good as you could expect. As long as we stuck to the groomed runs, it was fine. It was a perfect day for cruising, which is exactly what I like to do anyway, so I was really happy.

As promised, I brought my GPS along with me. I wasn't sure it was going to work from my jacket pocket, but it did, like a charm. The Garmin 705 has a feature which lets you record data for each lap so when I started, I would create a new lap every time I got back down to the lift. After a few rides up, I started a new lap at both the top and bottom of the lift so I get a better reading on how fast I was skiing. So starting at lap 8, you can see the lap that average about 8 mph—those are all the lifts. Lap 18 was a mistake, you can ignore that. Lap 23 includes part of lunch and can also ignored.

The remaining data is really interesting. Now Sugar Bowl, at least the part we were skiing, is not all that steep, and my average speed is somewhere in the 18-25 mph range. The GPS stops recording when my speed drops below 1 mph, but these averages include all the starting and stopping time on a run. On the faster runs, like lap #9 at 30 mph, I'm guessing I didn't stop.

For top speed, I hit 52.5 mph. My buddy Russell thinks this is way too fast—that I need a speed suit to get up that velocity. Perhaps. There were some steep short sections down at the bottom of Mt. Lincoln where I was cranking pretty hard. Seems fast, but the data doesn't lie*.

There are some really interesting things to look. Garmin has added a player to the their website.
You can really get a sense of my ski day by loading up the player. Because of the conditions, only a few runs were "skiable" and it really shows when you hit the play button and see us repeating the same lifts and runs over and over.

Another fascinating thing is that it's possible to export the GPX data from the Garmin and import it into Google Earth. Then you can adjust the camber on the view and get something like a 3D view of the mountain and the path we took on it.

It was a fun experiment and I'll try again on a day where I can ski anywhere on the mountain at a larger resort, maybe Squaw or Heavenly.

* except when it does

I've got to try this. Unfortunately, my GPS device doesn't mount on my wrist, it's meant to mount on my bike, but I'm going to try it anyway. I haven't yet been on the slopes this season. I was supposed to go today, but the trip was cancelled since I have to be here when my new washing machine gets delivered. A sure sign of getting old is giving up a day skiing to wait for the installation of a major appliance.

My brother Brian flew in from DC to close out the 2007-2008 season with a few days of spring skiing in Tahoe. Unfortunately it didn't work out exactly as we planned.

It hasn't snowed in Tahoe in about a month, which normally would be no problem, but this weekend was unseasonably cold, it never got above 36, so we're talking ice. Serious ice. Like Ice Capades, ice. And then there was the wind.

When we ddecided to go to Squaw I was hoping for day like this, but it wasn't to be. The tram was closed for high winds as were most of the lifts. There were 4 lifts running. Each had one run that was groomed. Groomed flat into a sheet of fricken ice. The wind was hard, it was blowing over skis and poles in the racks by the ticket window. It didn't look very promising.

We skated around the mountain for most of the morning. If you've never skied on ice, it's pretty horrid. Worse than the sliding around without being able to grip anything is sound. Skis sounds like some kind of industrial wood chipper. Snowboards sound like jet engines. It's nightmaarish.

The best run was off Red Dog. KT-22 was a nightmare, as was Exhibiton. The crowds were miniscule, which was a saving grace. No waiting to risk your life skidding down the hard pack.

Around 11, the sun started to warm the piste and it started to loosen up. The other lifts started to open. First Gold Coast Express, then Shirley Lake, Siberia and finally Granite Chief. The snow was so much better higher up the mountain and we had a brilliant afternoon, that is until the last run. It's always the last run.

The last run of the day, we were crusing down from mid-mountain, basically on a large flat cat track. It was after 3, so the snow was really soft at this point. I wasn't paying attention, clearly, and lost balance while going a little faster than I should have. Once I realized I was listing, it was too late to right the ship and over I went. I lost one ski, probably a good thing, but as I flipped around and the hit the snow with my stomach, a piece of sharp ice got under my jacket and gashed my stomach.

The odd thing is that I didn't notice it until we got on the lift (we actually decided to take one more run when we got to the bottom, so I guess it wasn't really the last run of the day). My stomach was bothering me and I when I lifted up my jacket, Brian said, Holy shit, dude, did you see that? I took off my googles and saw the splotch of blood on my lower abdomen. It was stinging a little, but I thing the cold made it feel less worse than it was. I shrugged it off.

At the end of the day I was left with an abrasion that looks like an apendectomy scar. Pretty crazy, but I'll live.

On Sunday we headed for Heavenly. Again, crowds were very light. I hadn't been in a month or so, and it was hard to fathom the damage the many 60 degree days have had on the bottom of the hill. Gunbarrel was a mess. Exposed trees, bushes, rocks, snow-making pipes. Seriously ugly. Highly up, it was better, the snow was good, mostly, and while it was sunny with gorgeous views, it was chilly and very windy. Not as windy as the night before when it felt like the house would blow over into the lake, but cold nonetheless. We got in about 15 runs, a good day, before we called it and headed home to have dinner with our sister and 3 year nephew.

All in all it was a pretty decent ski season. The snow was fantastic. I got in 15 days at Heavenly, 4 at Vail and one each at Squaw, Kirkwood and Beaver Creek for a total of 23. Not the best year, but far from the worst.

The resorts are still open, but I think I'm done. Time to move on the cycling and put the tyranny of the ski season in my rear view mirror.

Here's Russ jamming down a virgin powder slope in Vail's Legendary Back Bowls(TM). This is probably on Ricky's Ridge in Sundown Bowl right behind Game Creek. Sometime it's hard to tell exactly where you are in the Back Bowls--they are so wide open. This the was out first visit to the Back Bowls on this trip (other than several visits to Blue Sky Basin. The sun was shinning. The was 6-8 inches of fresh powder on the ground. It was about as close to perfect as you could hope for.

Not everyone can say they met Hitler, but I can.

Back when I worked for Sharpshooters, our psycho manager, Kurt, had a staffing problem. He was stuck dealing mostly with spoiled J-1 Argies who didn't like to show up for work when the snow was good. He did everything he could to keep the staff full and our sales numbers up. In midseason, he hired this Brazilian guy. His name was Hitler. I am not shitting you. Hitler. In fact, I know I have a picture of him somewhere. I'll have to scare it up. Naturally, Hitler is snowboader.

Now Kurt had a bit of a whacked sense of humor. On afternoons when the store when the store was full of super rich Vail skiers dropping huge $$$$ on really bad photographs, Kurt liked to shout at the top of his lungs, "Hey Hitler, get over here!" You can imagine the reaction.

The other day when we were at the French Deli for lunch, I was telling this story to Russell and Brian and we were all cracking up about it. When we finished our lunch, this woman came over to clear our plates. She looked so familiar, like one of the Argie managers at Sharphooters, only quite a bit heavier - I guess working at a French Deli will do that to you. Anyway, so we had one of the oddest conversations ever (recorded by Russell):

Andrew: Didn't you used to work for Sharpshooters?
Girl: Yeah
Andrew: Are you from Argentina?
Girl: Yup
Andrew: What's your name again?
Girl: Liza
Andrew: Oh, right. You probably don't remember me but I worked at Sharpshooters four years ago.
Liza: (nods)
Andrew: Do you remember Kurt Warner?
Liza: Sure
Andrew: Do you know Hitler?
Liza: (less sure) Yeah

She smirked, I think, walked away, and then avoided us for the remainder of our lunch. Hard to imagine why. :)

Today I shredded Beaver Creek. In the morning I dragged my brother all over the mountain. In the afternoon, I dragged Jean Claude, er Ryan, around. It was incredible. The place the empty. My new Elan 888s just ate up the snow. It was cold, but that just kept the piste in great shape. Even though at times, the visibility wasn't great, it was good enough to fly down the hill.

The day started off with not the best of omens. We didn't make breakfast at the condo, instead deciding to grab it at the hill. We parked at Arrowhead (free parking and close to the lift) but the Broken Arrow Restaurant at the base wasn't serving anything but pastries and coffee. We scrounged up a few breakfast burritos at the Ritz Carlton cafe (it really isn't exactly roughing it). My brother's girlfriend Isabel, fresh off three days of lessons at Vail, had a rough go with the greens at The Beav until Russell, a former instructor at Sugarbush and all around wicked awesome skier, took over her training for an hour before lunch. It couldn't have gotten ugly, but it didn't. Russell took off to challenge the Birds of Prey Downhill after lunch at the Red Tail. Brian went off with Isabel. And I toured Ryan around.

Photos from the amazing day are here.

Ok, so I stole the headline, but I did take the pic.

From left to right, Russell, Jean Claude (er Ryan), Andrew & Brian in front of Belle's Camp in Blue Sky Basin, the furthest reaches of Vail.

in 2004, I worked at Vail Lionshead Sharpshooters for about 4 months. Since then, Lionshead has gotten a massive facelift. It really needed to updated. The village was built in the 60s and looked it. I was just worried that my favorite restaurants in Vail, DJ's and Les Delices de France (aka The French Deli) wouldn't survive the facelift. DJ's sadly seems to be MIA, but the French Deli is alive and kicking.

It was good to see Daniel Bouvier, the curmudgeonly yet pleasantly gregarious proprietor, working behind the counter. He used to give all Sharpshooters a generous discount, so I was a regular. I told him how glad I was see that the Deli was still around and that I had been fantasizing about his pate sandwiches.

He said that business couldn't be better. The construction at Lionshead was way behind schedule and he's been feeding all the workers. He hoped that it would take another two years the finish the work. I wished him good luck, then devoured my scrumptious pate sandwich.

For the last for years, I've had a season pass at Heavenly. It's one of the best bargains in skiing. 329 bucks for the season at a place that charges 78 bucks a day. You do the math. The pass also includes three free days at Vail or Beaver Creek. For each of the last four years, I've wanted to make the pilgrimage back to Vail, but it just hasn't happened until this week. We're going to ski 5 days, three of which are paid for. The other two days are going to cost me 92 dollars. That's not for the two days, that for each fucking day. 92 dollars. Get your head around that. I can't. Granted, the US dollar isn't worth shit, but 92 fucking dollars? The only good thing about is that it means, in effect, I only paid 53 dollars to ski at Heavenly for the season.

I'm headed off to Vail to ski for a week with Russell, my brother Brian and his new girlfriend Isabel. Flying into Eagle/Vail, got a crash pad in East Vail. It's supposed to snow a ton. I haven't been back to Vail since I lived there in 2004, so it should be awesome!

It's currently 60 degrees Farenheit in South Lake Tahoe. I really hope this doesn't mean that the NorCal ski season is all but over, but if this weather continues what little snow we had will melt off in a hurry and it won't get cold enough at night to make more snow, even if the resorts were inclinded to so. I could be up there enjoying the spring conditions, but instead I'm laying around watching the NCAA tourney. Maybe I'll go up tonight after the UCLA game. Anyway, good thing this global warming is just a myth perpetuated by peer-reviewed scientist and left wing loonies, otherwise I might think that was a connection between, say greenhouse gas emissions and absurdly warm temperatures and ski resorts in wintertime.

Snowed all week. Made record time. Took exactly three hours to get from Emeryville to Stateline and only another 10 minutes up to the cabin. This was a marked improvement over the hellish nightmare returning from Tahoe last weekend.

Huge snowbanks are lining the roads 50 miles out from Tahoe. There is so much it's sick. I had to take the day off. Tomorrow is supposed to beautiful. There is nothing on the radar. I'll take lots of pictures.

Holy Shit!!!!!!

Heavenly is currently the epicenter of a series of winter storms. We received 72"-76" of fresh powder in the last 48 hours. We hear there's more on the way. It looks like winter will be in full effect this March with all the deep snow Tahoe is known for. Conditions are phenomenal and getting better every day!

Any guesses where I will be this weekend?

In Whistler, courtesy of Mariah

Currently we are expieriencing whiteout conditions with heavy snow and extremely high winds that have affected lift operations. More updates will follow throughout the day, and as weather conditions warrant. With another 12 inches of fresh, soft powder from this winter storm, you can guarantee that the quality of snow will be the finest we've expierienced this year! Lifts will start turning at 8:30am today

The wind was banging so hard against the windows last night that it woke me up half a dozen times. Right now, it's dumping now, which is great, the mountain needs it even after the 2-3 feet it got on Thursday, but it's not going to be much fun to ski today. High winds have all but a handfull of lifts shut down and there are only 2 lifts open, Stagecoach and Boulder, on the Nevada side where I am. At least the roads are still open so we can leave Tahoe and head back to the Bay Area. But there is a foot of now in our driveway and it just keeps piling up. Should be an interesting day.

It was just a fantastic, albeit crowded, day at Heavenly. Got the to the lifts with Kristen around 8:30. Had to replace my lost season pass which took all of 3 minutes. Great customer service on the mountain. The mountain was mostly empty for the first two hours. We skiied the glades in the Milky Way bowl where there was just a ton of untracked snow up to three feet deep in some places, but mostly around a foot or a foot and a half. There were scattered rocks and trees hidden under the asnow and I probably did more damage to my skis today than in the last four years, but nothing that can't be fixed, mostly superficial surface scratches.The snow on the groomed trails was absolutely perfect and I was able to let the skis run with complete confidence. There's like bombing down a perfectly manicured piste t top speed. It just feels unbelievable.

It was supposed to start snowing at noontime. There was a series of stormy clouds that passed by the top of the mountain at breakneck speed and there were moments of blasting cold, especially after I took my big jacket off and like an ass, stuck it in the car for the afternoon. But there was also plenty of blue skies and sunshine.

When the crowds started arriving midmorning, we moved down the mountain to Stagecoach and skied the Scorpion Glades off to skier's right. The best thing about the glades is that you can ski through a hundred times and never ski the same terrain twice. We had a fucking great day.

I was blacked out last weekend-It was President's Day-so no skiing, but I'm headed up again tonight for what should be two days of glorious skiing. After what has been a wretched snowless season, Heavenly finally got dumped on yesterday with 24-36 inches of fresh powder. Much of it will have been groomed down and skiied off, but there should still be tons of great snow in the glades.

I finally broke down and bought myself a skiing helmet. I'd been wanting to get one for a long time, at least since I got back into skiing in 2004, and I've tried on dozens of them. But each one made me feel like Great Gazoo from the Flinstones, that my head was now some kind of enormous unwieldy appendage. It wasn't pleasant.

Then someone in my house recommended the Giro 9.9. I checked it out. It fit. It didn't make me feel like a mutant. i bought it. And a funny thing happened when I bought it. I couldn't wait to get on the slopes in the morning.

Last year I didn't have a ski house. I went up for several one day shots and crashed at a friend's place in North Lake. It was ok, but the end result was that I didn't ski much-6 days at Heavenly, 4 at Whistler, 3 at Squaw and one each at Alpine and Homewood. Just not enough skiing for my tastes.

So this season I decided to join a house again. It was going to be expensive, a grand for the season. But it was really a no brainer, the main reason being that driving up in the wee hours of the morning, skiing like a bat out of hell all day and then skiing home is for the birds. It's exhausting and it takes me too long to recover-Ironically, I've already done it twice this season, but let's not get into that.

So the house started on the 5th. It's a condo in Nevada and few hundred meters below the stagecoach lift. I didn't make it the first weekend. I was up skiing at Heavenly (skiing day 2), but I was over on the California side and even though planned to drop over to Nevada, pick up key and leave my gear behind, at the end of the day, all I wanted to do was get in the car and head home.

The next weekend was MLK. I knew the hill was going to be insane. The house which has ten members was going to have 15 people sleeping refugee style and I thought I'd give it a pass. It hadn't snowed much anyway (still hasn't). I didn't think it was a big loss.

So I went up for the first time the following weekend. I headed up late Friday night to avoid traffic, at which I was marginally successful. I followed the instructions from house organizer to pick up the key and promptly got lost. I was halfway to Carson City before I turned around and finally found the little ump called the Pine Cone Resort (the "Pine Cone' part of the neon was out which was why I missed it and should tell you everything about how appropriate the name "Resort" is. Anyway, I found the place. Parked. Got out. Used the the code to get into the antechamber and retrieved my key. But I wasn't out the woods.

Google Maps doesn't do a great job of handling little private roads in small areas, like at the base of a ski resort, so the tool that I and so many people like me have come to rely on, was of little or no use. But I plowed ahead and tried to mash up the written instructions provided by Ezra and the Google Map and promptly got lost. I made wrong turns. I ended up on one way streets. i muddled through and finally found the place, or the at least the vicinity, but I couldn't find the building.

I parked in one place, looked around and couldn't find it. I called Ezra but got no answer. I wandered around some more. Keep in mind it's cold and it's dark. I'm tired and hungry. I just want to find the fucking place and, grab a bite to eat and crash.

I parked in another place. There was mangy dog growling at me. I had to flee into a snow bank behind a car to escape him. When the owner came out to fetch the mongrel, I asked if he knew where 928 was and he pointed over my shoulder. There it was right behind me. What an idiot. Of course, the adventure wasn't over yet.

I had located the buildling. That was a good start. I grabbed my gear. The house was on top of a little hill and the driveway was steep and it was covered with this translucent ice. I really needed crampons to navigate, especially since I was carrying skis and ski gear and tons of crap. Somehow I managed to get up the hill without incident, but just barely and only with the most patient efforts at movement.

Then I couldn't figure out where to go. The outside of the condo offers no clues. Even worse there were negative clues. I opened the door to the place, and this is a very unwelcoming weather beaten outisde door and it opened up into what looked like a construction site. There was mylar on the floor and the carpets had been ripped up. This couldn't be right? I must be at the wrong entrance.

i went back outside to look for another way in, but there was none. Ok. I went back in. Trudged over the mylar walkway and found the condo.

Nothing was easy, Even using the key was a pain in the ass. But I was in.

Warmth. Camaraderie. Food. Sleep.

Had to go up to Heavenly today if I was going to get a day in before the end of the year. I couldn't sleep. I maybe got 2 hours. I hit the road a little before 6. Arrived in Tahoe just as the lifts were opening. It was everything I could do just to keep my eyes open on the last leg of the drive from Placerville, but I survived.

I validated my season pass. I went outside to Gunbarrell. It was shocking how little snow there was on the bottom of the mountain. There was more on the top, a few groomed runs with packed man-made snow, no doubt. Tthe crowds were light for most of the morning, but the Sky Express was closed because of high winds so there was no outlet to Nevada. Skiers started arriving at mid-morning and since there was no getting off the CA side, the lift lines started to explode. I was going to head down, take the shuttle over to Nevada and ski back, but I was there was only one lift open over there, so I called it day after about runs, just enough to shake the rust off and get a taste before real season starts.

Hopefully we'll get some snow. We really need it. I downloaded (sadly) and was back in the Bay Area by 2:45. At least it was a beautifully sunny day. The weather was nicer in Tahoe than it was in Emeryville. I want to say it was worth it. I drove 6 hours round trip on limited sleep to ski 10 runs. I had been postponing going up because I wanted more snow and for the whole mountain to be open. I got neither. I could have come up weeks ago and gotten the same experience and with a full night sleep. I'm glad I did it, but I don't know if I'd do it again.

Heavely is open, barely. They claim on their site to have "the Most Terrain
and the Best Coverage in Tahoe!". Maybe that's true, but if so, that's sad commentary on the state of the Noral Sierras. Heavenly has all of 3 runs open. 3. It rained all day here. It was fucking nasty and not one inch fell in Tahoe. That's messed up. I'm not driving up to Tahoe for three runs. I don't care how badly I want to ski.

I didn't write much about Whistler. I must have been in one of those phases. Of course, I have the pics from the trip up on Flickr. Here's how it went down. I flew up from SF. My buddy Russell (hey, Russell, you made the blog again!) drove up from Seattle and grabbed me at the airport. Brian flew in from DC and his friend Cara, a crazy Canuck, come in from "Winterpeg" or "Manisnowba" or some equally inhospitable place. Amazingly it all worked out since the four of us were each coming from a different place.

Brian had found a great condo on the Blackcomb side, the Glacier Lodge, and from that staging ground, we had a four glorious days of skiing. The mountain was relatively empty despite the Telus Ski Festival that was going on. It wasn't too cold, which is always something that has kept me from Whistler. It was around 30F the whole time. It snowed just enough every night to leave a blanket of fresh stuff on mountain every morning. It couldn't have been better, except for a few minor snafus. The first was when the electricity went on out Whistler, effectively shutting the mountain down. We traversed over to Blackcomb, but almost everyone else had the same idea. By the time we made it over there and skied a few runs, the electricity was back.

Then there was Brian. I like to tease Bri because growing up he was the kick ass skier and I was always trailing behind him. We both started on plastic skis when we were 3, but he graduated to the real deal long before me and I have been behind ever since. Then there was Vail. I was in shape. I was acclimatized. My skiing was vastly impraved and Brian couldn't keep up. He did a little better in Heavenly, but he had some equipiment problems that slowed him down. All that was sorted out by the time we got to Whistler. He still can't keep up with me, but he's getting better. He spent a good chunk of time with Cara who doesn't ski all the much, while Russell, who grew up skiing New England, dragged my sorry ass around Whistler's toughest terrain. When we did ski together, Brian was doing great, that is, until the last run of the last day.

The day was a cold one. The skies were gray, the winds were howling, and there were few people on the mountain. We decided to take it easy. Cara had left the day before so it was just the boys. We would ski a few runs, then hit the mid-mountain lodge for a hot drink, just pacing ourselves, not in any rush to get anywhere or get off the mountain. We did have to get going around mid-day so that we could have a leisurely lunch in the village and hit the road back to Vancouver.

Skiing down from anywhere above the mid-mountain lodge at Whistler is an amazing thing. The run just seems to go forever. The change in elevation is dramatic to say the least. The summit is not all that high, only 7160 feet. But the base is way down at 2140 feet, leaving a vertical drop of almost mile and far more distance on the trails. One of the ramifications of this is that it might be freezing and snowy at the top while it's perfectly sunny and the snow is melting underfoot at the base.

This would lead to some tricky skiing at the end of the day where you had to travrse some serious slush as your neared the bottom. For me this is no problem as I love the soft stuff, but for many people not used to it, it can be downright disasterous.

So when we were sitting in the lodge at mid-mountain, debating how to get down we thought ot taking th gondola. It would have been the safe play. We had 4 great days. We were ready to go home. Thinking back we probably should have taken the gondola. But it was a cold day and it was midday and when we talked about it, we decided that the slopes were probably in pretty decent condition. They would have been groomed and would probably have held up nicely to this point. Fuck it, we're going to take one last run down and soak up as much of Whistler as we can.

We didn't take any particularly hard route down to the bottom, just picked our way delibrately down to the base, stopping a dozen times along the way. Russell would get down first. I would follow. And Brian would pick up the rear. At the top of the Fitzsimmons Express, I met up Rusell and we waited and waited for Brian, but he wasn't showing up. I had this feeling, maybe one of the those twin feelings, that something horrible had happened to him, but right as I was having that thought, here he comes down the trail. He said he caught an edge on the cat track and just went down. No big deal. I guess I was wrong. He took a while to get his skis back on, but he was ok. We continued on.

Right after Fitzsimmons, the trail gets very steep. There are no moguls or anything and compared to the top, it's nothing but compared to where we just came from, a long traverse from mid-mountain, it was a severe change. Again, Russell skied down and stopped. I followed. And then, no Brian. This time I was really worried. I ditched my skis aid ran up the mountain. I found Brian basically stuck on the top of one of the steeper parts. He couldn't turn left. His knee just wouldn't do it. This was bad. I talked him down and we made it to where Russell had stopped, thankfully.

We tried to figure out what to do. We were in spitting distance of the bottom. We could the village just beneath us. Brian might have been able to pick his way down, but we really didn't know the extent of his injury or anything about it really. He wasn't in any pain. He was just standing there. He just couldn't turn left. We made the smart play and called the Ski Patrol.

Within about 10 minutes and old patrollie came down the mountain to meet us. Ian asked Bri a few questions to determine what happened. Using keen discretion honed over a dozens of years on the mountain, Ian got Brian strapped in the sled and ferried him down the last 500 yards or so to the village where we took a taxi to the medical center.

A few hours and several x-rays later, Brian had a soft splint around a knee needing surgery for a torn ACL.The ski season was done.

Brian's a tough guy. I'm sure he was in lots of pain as we headed down from the mountains to the airport in Vancouver. We had scheduled so that our flights were close together and my flight was last so I was able to help him get sorted out at the airport. He even got bumped up to first class for the trip back to DC so it wasn't all that bad. But he faced a long road of surgery followed by rehab. He kept a stiff upper lip. I dind't envy him. I cursed our decision to ski down instead of downloading, but that's hindsight. Nothing you can do about it now. We parted ways with Brian promissing to keep me up to date.

Brain hopefully will add more to this in the comments, but I'll try to give the gist of what followed. He found one of the leading specialists at Georgetown medical who shepperded Brian through the process. He had surgery about a month following the accident and then embarked on a course of rehabilitation. He made great strides and his healing has been ahead of schedule from the beginning. Things are going so well that we have another trip to Whistler planned for the second week on February. I fully expect that Brian will be in better shape and a stronger skier because of this experience.

Heavenly officially opened this morning which the ski season has started for me. Well, sort of. I don't know what condition the mountain is in, butad to if I had to guess, I'd say it must be fairly pathetic. According to the listed conditions, no snow has falled in more than a week and the base depth of 30" (down from 46" when I checked on Saturday) is mostly from snow-making. Normally the snow-making just helps lay down the base and is augmented by a thick layer of natural snow by this time, but not this year. So far there has been precious little rain in the Bay Area and therefore minimal percipitation in the Sierras.

This concerns me greatly because I just put a large chunk of change down for a ski cabin. The place won't be available until the first week of January, and much could change by then, but it is a worry nonetheless. It's a condo on the Nevada side near the Stagecoach lodge. It should be more comfortable than last time when we had 15 people in a house with 3 bedrooms. This time there are 12 and the are 12 sleeping spots not including couches. I will always have a bed to sleep in. There's an indoor and outdoor hot tub, gourmet kitchen and what seems to be a nice group of people, none of which will matter if there's no snow. We've had so much snow the last 2 years, it seems as though we're due for a dry season. Let's hope not.

Even though there's little snow on the mountain, I'd like to get up and ski today. I can't because of commitments I've made. I can't go the follhowing two days either because my pass is "blacked out" on certain holidays. I coukd go Sunday and I'm hoping for some snowfall between now and then which would make the decision to drive up all the more easy.

I haven't skied before New Year's in close to 20 years. When I returned to skiing in Vail it was already January 2004. I moved back to the Bay Area, bought a Haeavely pass for the first time and got locked into the ski house, but that didn't start until January as well and I didn't manage to make it up before that. Last season, I didn't have a lease and I spent a good chunk of time in December down in Costa Rica. I didn't get my first day on the slopes until Februrary 21st. I didn't ski nearly as much as in 2004-2005 when I had the house and I didn't ski as much, of course, in 2004-2005 as I did in 2004 when I lived in Vail. I don't like that trend line so it's time to get a few more days in. I'll be happy if I get 25.

Even though I got a late start last year, I thought the season was pretty damn good. I got in about 6 days at Heavenly, or just enough to make the pass worthwhile, including a powder-blessed weekend when my brother came out from DC and I had the biggest wipeout of my life I hit Homewood, Squaw Valley and Alpine Meadows in North Lake Tahoe for the first time. I was impressed by all of them for different reasons. And then we capped of the season with the amazing, albeit fateful trip to Whistler/Blackbomb in British Colombia.

If I keep the quality the same and jack the quantity, this will be a great season.

Just plunked down the money for the ski house this season. It's a luxury condo on the Nevada side of Heavenly that I will share with 12 people. More details to come soon.

I've got my pass. It's paid for. Can't wait to get on the slopes again. It rained almost all day today, but I didn't realize it was cold l enough to snow in the Sierras until I got an email from Heavenly.

I've been lousy about updating the blog lately, and I'm sorry about that.

Last weekend I went to North Lake Tahoe with my buddy Kristen. We left early Saturday morning. Didn't have much of plan of where to ski, but we knew that we wanted to hit Squaw at least one of the days. Since her (share) house is right near Squaw, we decided to go directly there on Saturday morning. While we in line to buy lift tickets (the longest line we saw all weekend) we made the snap decisionto ski Squaw both days. At $113 for 2 consecutive days, it's still pricey, but $57.50 a day is easier to swallow than $68 for one day (or whatever it is). It was a great decision.

Squaw is an awesome place, even with onl half the lifts running. It's massive. The scenery is spectacular with soaring rocky peaks and views of distant Lake Tahoe. When it's 70 degrees, there isn't a cloud in the sky and the crowds are nowhere to be found, it's even better.

The season at Heavenly is over but there are a handful of places still open for quality spring skiing. I'm heading up early tomorrow morning for one, maybe two days of sliding in the sun. When I get back I promise to write about the trip, Whistler and wrap up the whole ski season, which, like so many things in my life, I've really badly neglected. Have a good weekend.

Sorry I haven't written much in the last week. I was skiing in Whistler. And while we did have access to the Internet in the condo, I didn't much feel like writing after flinging my body around the hill. There's lots to write about and many pictures to share. Hopfefully I'll get something more comprehensive by the end of the day.

I was skiing down for one of the last run's of the day last Saturday at Alpine Meadow. I stopped to wait for the girls I was skiing with and I came across these two kids who had built a kicker (a jump for you non-skiers) in a remote part of the mountain. The kicker wasn't huge, maybe about 3 feet off the ground and the pitch wsan't that great, but the hill was steep and the landing was all soft powder.

One of the kids (the one pictured here), and these guys are maybe 16 years old, tells me that I should have been there a few minutes ago. He flew 70 feet off the kicker and landed it. OK. I didn't really believe him, but it didn't matter. Clearly these guys were serious. They could have jumped all day in the terrain park, but insead they spent hours fashioning this perfectly squared off kicker.

The guy, who was on skis, was getting his nerve up to do a forard a flip. He side stepped up the hill about 15 feet and was sort of gauging his courage while being egged on by his friend. I didn't think he had a chance because the pitch of the kicker was too shallow. I also didn't think he was going to go for it, but he started downhill, hit the kicker and flipped forward. He didn't pull the full 360 degrees, but he made about 280, I would guess, and landed on his ass in the cushy snow. It was impressive.

Right about the time the girls showed up, the other kid, the one on the snowboard took another jump. This time I had my camera ready. I can't beleive how well this shot turned out considered I was just using my little Canon S500 point and shoot which usually has a tough time dealing with any kind of motion, but it's sharp as a tack and stopped the motion dead in the air. Check out the original size shot to really see how good this is.

I didn't if he landed it this jump or even how far he flew, but the kid got some serious air. Must be great to have rubber bones and no fear.

It seems to be raining in Whistler. I just can't get away from it. Hopefully, if the forecast is right, it will just rain in the village and the snow will be dumping on the mountain because rain on the mountain makes for a less than fun ski holiday. In rain anywhere makes for a less than fun ski holiday.

It's raining here and it's been raining all week, so the skiing should be good tomorrow. I'm headed up to North Lake hopefully to ski some places I've never been to, Alpine and Sugar Bowl. I'm not driving, so I'm not calling the shots. Just along for the ride.

Here's a panorama from last weekend at Heavenly:



You really have to see the full size to appreciate it. It's over 12000 pixels wide.

The reward for waking up at 7am and getting on the mountain when the lifts open. I wish I could ski this stuff all day every day.

Anyone who skis with me knows that I don't fall. It's not because I don't ski hard. I do. It's because I know my limits and I'm always (or almost always) in balance. But on Saturday morning, I had the biggest wipeout of my life.

Before I get into this, let me just say that Brian and I had a great weekend skiing at Heavenly. Sure, Brian had some equipment problems (what's new?) but we got that solved, we had great conditions and the mountain was virtually empty.

On Friday night we drove through a blizzard to get dinner. While we ate, about 45 minutes, 4 inches of snow had piled on the car. In all there was 18 inches of fresh powder and blue skies when we woke at 7am on Saturday morning. We had breakfast at Heidi's Pancake Haus and were on the mountain by 9am. No one around. Pretty shocking for Saturday. I guess the roads must have been closed for most of the night and it scared people off.

The snow was deep almost everywhere. If you're not used to, it can rip up your leg muscles. Early on, Brian made it clear that he was suffering with his boots and had to take a break. He went off to the Lakeview Lodge to stretch out and I went off to ski by myself.

Up on the Canyon Express at the top of the California side, it was pretty socked in with low clouds. Visibility was maybe 20 feet, but he light was perfectly flat and you could not see variations in the terrain. I should have taken this under consideration, but, foolishly, I didn't, because I thought I was skiing a groomed track, Ridge Run. It was groomed, at least most of it. I made a few turns and headed towards the steeper portion where I hit a bank of power that I did not (and could not) see. I was launch out of my skis, flew through the air and landed face first into a fat pile of snow. It happened so fast I didn't even realize what had happened. One milisecond I was skiing looking into a white world, the next I was buried in snow looking into darkness. It was stunning.

Naturally all this happened right under the lift, so I as I gathering myself and did a sanity/body part check, I could hear people above me saying, nice yard sale, dude! I got up, looked around. I could see my two poles and one ski. I dusted the snow off my body, my hat, my goggles, my face and went searching for the other ski which fortunately turned up quickly. I snapped on the bindings and took off, thankful that I was in one piece.

Throughout the day I started noticing things that were a little awry. There was some pain in my right thumb. I must have hyperextended it when I landed. There was the beginnings of a bruise on the outside of my right wrist. I could have landed on my pole, but I'm not sure. The inner thigh on my left leg was a little tender. And most inexplicably, there was a dried patch of blood under my chin. It's nothing major. No broken bones. No head injury. No need for Ski Patrol. If that's the worst thing that ever happens to me when I ski, I'll be very fortunate. But I'm sore all over and I'm not sure how much it has to do with skiing 3 hard consecutive days for the first time in 2 years and how much was a result of my "cushioned" wipe out in the powder. I'm sure it's nothing a few days rest and some Advil won't cure.

My brother is coming into town tonight (he's on the red eye now from DC), and we're heading up to Tahoe for the weekend. It should be great. The snow's been falling all week with promise of more in the next three days. I haven't skied with Brian in about 2 years. He came to visit the trailer park when I was living in Vail. We had some bad weather, some rain. We also had some snow and one absolutely brilliant day.

Anyway, we're heading up to South Lake. Going to ski at Heavenly where I trying to make my season pass pay off. The season is almost over and I've only been there 3 days. With 2 more days this weekend and maybe one more next weekend, it'll be worthwhile. After that I don't think I'll get much chance to get up to Tahoe because my brother, his friend Cara and my buddy Russell are headed to Whistler in two weeks!

I finally got off my keister, headed up to Tahoe, picked up my Heavenly season pass (oops) and had a day of skiing. It was great but it was exhausting. For one thing, I was seriously out of shape. I skied more than 20 days last season, but it's been almost 10 months and my legs and lungs got worked. Then there's this whole wake up a 5am, drive to the mountain, ski like a bat out of hell for 6 hours and drive 3 1/2 hours (traffic) back to the Bay Area. That's a seriously long day. I don't know how people do it. I can tell you I'm not exactly psyched to rush back. It knocked the stuffing out of me.

On the other hand, the day was awesome. It was over 50 degrees Farenheit. It was so hot, I had to stop and go back to the car to drop off some clothes mid-morning. The snow was in great shape considering they hadn't had anything new in more than 3 weeks. And the crowds were relatively sparse.

I want to ski more days this season. I need at least to get in 4 more days at Heavenly to make my pass worthwhile. I don't know if I'll be able to do it though (see above).

It's really been the most amazing season. So much snow. More than anyone could have possibly hoped for. Just when it looked like the snowfall would come to an end, we'd get more. We even got 5 inches last night. It was mixed with a little rain, but it was snow nonetheless. It was perfectly fitting end to the season that wouldn't quit.

We didn't ski much today. It was a cold, overcast day you'd expect to have in mid-December, not on May Day. It would have been so much better had the sun been shining all day, but it was still fun, as skiing almost always is.

Russell, Kristen and I started up the gondola. We stopped at the little observation deck about half way up the mountain to take some pictures. It was there that I realized that I forgot to take my memory card out of my computer, which was pretty funny since I was given Kristen shit about her point and shoot film camera back in the gondola. At least she could take a picture.

It was almost a total whiteout at the top of the gondola. Russell and Kristen wanted only to take one run, but I convinced them to come with down to the Nevada just to see what it was like. The snow, which Russell called "Gorilla Snot", was crusty, 5 new inches of muck that had been mostly skied out by people who managed, unlike us, to make it up to the mountain before noon. It needed a good groom, but since that wasn't going to happen, we left after three scant runs. Three runs in the two hours between noon and 2 o'clock. Sorta sad.

Back at the house, most everyone was gone. It was time to pack up, clean up, eat leftovers and say hasta la vista to the grand house on 585 Alpine.

Days Skied This Season: 25

The last weekend of the season should be a warm funfest basking in mid 50s blue sunny gloriously languid days of skiing. That wasn't how it worked out last year in Vail when we had ice storms and freezing winds on the last day of the season and it's not how it seems to be unfolding here in Tahoe.

Today there was some sunshine, and when the sun graced us with its presence, it was quite lovely, but more often than not, good ole sole would hide behind fast moving ominous black clouds. Normally this wouldn't be such a problem. The snow was perfect, which is was unexpected this time of year, but since I was determined to have a serious spring day, I wore only one of my old Samoan shirts on my torso and was colder than a popsicle in the deep freeze.

In the afternoon, when Russell quit to set up the barbeque and Kristen left to check out the band playing at the Gondola, it only got worse, even after I had gone down to the car with them to grab a sweater. I skied a few more runs and then made my way to the top of the gondola the watch the pond skimming contest.

Last year, I went to Vail's World Alpine Pond Skimming Championships. It was a big deal. There were sponsors, there were announcers, there were judges, tons of be costumed contestants, and a massive pool of clean, cold mountain water over which they all tried to skim. Heavenly, in comparison, was a sad joke.

The pond was just that, a small dirty pond. It was maybe 30 feet long and 15 wide. It was lined with a black glad bag, but it must have been punctured because dirt had seeped in from somewhere leaving a pool of brown water. There were no judges. There didn't seem to be any rules. The pond was so short that most of the contestants came screaming across it, spraying the assembled fans with water or piling into the "protective" webbing at the edge of the pond.

It was cold. It started snowing a little even. I gave up after about 20 people went over with about 75% of the folks making it across the way.

I took some pics with my microcompact Canon S400. It overcast and they didn't come out all that but it will give the flavor of the event.

Days Skied This Season: 24

Heading up to Tahoe for the last weekend of what has been a truly awesome season. I don't know how much skiing is going to happen, but there is definitely going to be a lot of drinking and foolishness. Should be fun.

Russell and I drove up to Tahoe in his "pig" of car, a circa 1980s Jeep Cherokee. We figured the house would be empty since no one other than us RSVP'd, but it was still a shock to arrive at the house around 9:30, see no cars in the driveway and without anyone there to greet us. No one drinking beer. No one cracking jokes or telling stories. No one sitting around the fire playing games. No one. Eerie.

There was no snow on the ground. The same driveway that I spent an hour shoveling the previous Saturday was clean as a whistle. There was no snow on the grass, little on the balcony and there was a clear path in the backyard through the snow pack to the dock. A week of 50 degree afternoons had seen to that.

We slapped together a dinner of chicken and veggie curry, watched a movie(The Player), and crashed, me in a bedroom for only the second time all season.

In the morning, we awoke to clear skies and the rising sun. It was going to be a scorcher. We took out time, lingering over a lengthy breakfast of chicken apple sausage and cheddar scramble. There's not much point in hitting the hill too early after a hot day because the snow which melted the previous afternoon, freezes into a cement-like consistency overnight. It's best for the knees and any other body part that might come in contact with the mountain (like my melon) to wait until the middle of the morning when the surface has softened up somewhat.

We arrived at Heavenly around 10. The place was an empty as the house. We geared up, took the tram to the top of Gunbarrel and made our way up the hill. On the first run, Russell who had a mishap last week when one of Ed's friends plowed into in him, took a nasty digger and was done for the day. I was bummed. I wasn't going to stop skiing. It was too good, but it's always more fun to ski with someone, especially someone like Russell who's much better than I am and pushes me around the hill.

We planned to meet up at 1:30 at the California Bar and Russell downloaded, and I took off. There mountain was empty. The were no lift lines anywhere. I skied all over the mountain. Run after run after glorious run. It was hot. I was skiing in a t-shirt and a Samoan shirt. I skied from California to Nevada, back to California, to Nevada again and finally back to California. I was all over the place. The snow was soft and a little sticky in the flat spots towards the bottom, but it was nothing but fun.

Around 1:15, I was getting ready to head down to the California Bar to meet Russell for lunch. The snow was getting really soft. I made a command decision to go down the face of Gunbarrel instead of taking the cat track Roundabout. Roundabout is the easiest way down, and it's fun to wind around the face, but when it's hot, the coverage can be bag with exposed roots and rocks and it was going to be sticky. On the other hand, Gunbarrel was a straight mogul laden shot down to the lodge. But today, the mogul would be soft and forgiving and if there was ever a time I was going to hit Gunbarrel, this would be it, so I made the plunge.

It's steep and bumpy, but it was no problem really because a lot of the moguls had been flattened out by previous skiers. I cruised down with no problem, right until the end that is. I was right on top of the little run called World Cup that is adjacent to an eponymous lift and forms the last section of run linking Gunbarrel to the base. I was one turn away from the top of World Cup when I lost my balance and went down, instinctively putting my gloveless hand down on the snow, this snow which seemed oh so soft when I was skiing on it ripped through the back of my hand, turning my knuckles into a bloody mess.

It didn't hurt because my hand spot-numbed when it hit the snow and it actually looked pretty cool to have blood streaming from the back of my hand as I strolled into the California Bar.

Days Skied This Season: 22

There's not enough money in the world to pay me to jump into Lake Tahoe when there's snow on the ground. But Hans only needed 10 bucks and whole lot of peer pressure to take a running leap off the dock at the back of the house into the frigid lake.

At a time when most ski resorts in the northern hemisphere are winding down operations for the season, snow continues to dump on the Sierras, 14 inches in the last 24 at Heavenly to be exact. The season officially ends May 1st (extended from mid April), but they could keep the mountain open until June or even later. The base at Heavenly is still 144 inches. 12 feet of snow. Amazing.

Kristen and I caught a ride up with Russell and everyone else up this weekend is headed for Kirkwood, so we're waiting for the shuttle. It's a good deal, three bucks each way with door to door service. It will take to any of the lodges, but we'll probably head for the gondola which comes down right into town at Stateline.

The snow is still falling, but very lightly, barely visible. The sky is leaded gray in places, but it's banded and the sun peeks through patches of blue sky now and again. And there's no wind to speak of. You can check it out on the Heavenly Web Cams. It should be an epic day. I hope you have as much fun as I'm going to be having in about an hour.

I was only half joking when I told a coworker I was going to Tahoe for the weekend, but I didn't think I would ski much. It turned out to be right on. I skied about two hours on Saturday and not at all on Sunday.

I got up there at 11pm on Friday. There were a few cars in the driveway, but when I came inside the whole house was slumbering. I plugged in, turned on the TV and settled in for the Papal Death Watch.

In the morning, a few people headed off for Kirkwood, but I sat around with the kitchen table with Kristen, a Catholic, and Russell, a determinist atheist, to talk about religion, faith and the existence of god. It was just the sort of conversation I suspect many people are having in the wake of the unfortunate Schiavo business and the passing of the pontiff.

It was sunny and beautiful outside, and the snow was meant to be really good, so there really was no excuse for wasting the day away, but it's the end of the season and we've all gotten tons of great ski days in. About 11:30, Kristen and I took off for Heavenly, parked at the Stagecoach Lodge in Nevada and skied for about 2 hours. It's part of the beauty of having a season pass that lets you ski as long you want without any guilt.

That night five of us in the house decided to go out. We had one drink at a place called Whiskey Dick's but decided to leave because they wanted to charge us a 5 dollar cover (there was a band coming on later) if we wanted to keep drinking. We left and drove to Meyers to the Divided Sky where a acid jazz band was playing very loud and the bourbon was flowing very fast. By the time we left around midnight, I had four or five drinks, and for a lightweight like me, that's a serious amount.

When we got home around 1 in the morning, we did some serious damage to the house bar. Ed was mixing his eponymous drink which is OJ, Malibu and cherry juice. Sounds sweet and it is, but they go down way, way too easy. We killed off a bottle of Malibu and a lot of vodka and ended up in the hot tub where I stayed until I could see blue sky peeking from behind the clouds. Both my body and my brain were completely pickled.

I woke in the morning to a mild hangover and a serious snowstorm. The sky was white. Flurries were blowing all over the place. We had lost an hour, and no one had the will to ski. We took a few hours to recover and then went out to Heidi's for a massive cholesterol laden breakfast.

Back at the house, we cleaned up (it was a fucking mess after the debauchery of the previous night), packed up and hit the road around 1 with the idea that we'd all meet at the Connecticut Yankee in SF to watch the Red Sox-Yankee game. But almost everyone in Tahoe must have had the same idea. The road out was jammed up. It could have been the traffic. It could have been an accident. It could have been the fresh snow. Whatever it was, I didn't want to sit it. I pulled up to the others and told them I was turning around.

I was back at the house for less than 5 minutes, when the front door opened and Ed came up the stairs. He was quickly followed by Russell and Kristen. They all had decided they weren't going to make it to the city in time for the game. Russell who's from Vermont and Kristen who's dad is the pitching coach for the Sox, are livelong die hard fans. They weren't going to miss the game for traffic.

We had a few hours to kill before game time so we watched American Beauty and ordered a couple of pizzas. The game started. The Sox looked good at first, hanging in there with the Yanks, but Randy Johnson settled down and the Sox collapsed. I left after the 5th inning because I wanted to get most of the icy and windy Highway 50 behind me before darkness fell.

Days Skied This Season: 19

I didn't ski much yesterday morning. I got to the mountain early and it was cold, nasty and windy. Normally this isn't a problem. I can tough it out. But I left after only a few runs. Here's why.

It was really hot in the afternoon on Saturday. The snow was getting soft and toss all over the mountain by skiers and snowboarders. Overnight, it freezes into unnatural shapes that are very unfun to ski. Resorts like Heavenly try to solve this problem by grooming or running big snow cats over the snow to smooth it out. And it works, but in the early morning, when it's still below 32F, the stuff is still rough to ski.

There was a storm coming in. I wasn't all that cold, but it was windy, especially at the top where you could see the clouds whipping the mountain from west. The high winds shut down the Sky Express lift on the California side, effectively trapping skiers on that side of the mountain. Since there's no other way to get from the California side to the Nevada side, legions of skiers skipping church were jamming the Canyon Express lift. Lift lines were getting insane by 9:30. I didn't want to wait in crazy ass long lines to ski on snow that was less than ideal.

Plus my knee was still tender from a wipeout the previous day. I didn't want to push it. There's more snow on the way and more than a month left in the season. There didn't seem to be much sense is making it worse.

Days Skied This Season: 18

I drove up to Tahoe with Russell in the afternoon on Friday. We cruised up. No snow. No rain. No traffic. It was a blessing after the nightmare of last week.

When we got to the house, it was empty. The only person here was Russell's brother Justin, visiting from Vermont. It was strange. The house isn't always packed like last weekend, but there's usually a handful of people. Not yesterday. We made dinner (bison burgers and steamed artichoke), watched a movie (Love and Death) and crashed.

Russell normally skis at Kirkwood, but since no one was here (Jake and Lindley did show up after midnight), he decided to come with me to Heavenly. It was going to be an epic day. It was sunny and we've had more than 7 feet of new snow in the last week. 7 fucking feet. This is just the season that will not quit.

Russell hadn't been to Heavenly in years, so I toured him around. We were having a great time on empty runs until we hit the cat track to the Nevada side and Russell started having problems with his feet. His orthotics weren't fitting right and they were jamming into the bottom of his feet. He was miserable.

So he headed down to get his boot situation fixed and we made a plan to meet at the gondola at 1 or if that didn't work out, in the bar at the California lodge at 4. I was bummed. We were having a great time, but if you can't ski, you can't ski. I guided Russell to the gondola and headed back to the California side. It was only about 10:15.

So I skied solo for the next couple of hours, cruising the perfect soft snow all over Nevada. Around 12:30 or so I headed back to midmountain where the gondola drops skiers off. I was early so I skied a few runs on the 6 person Tamarack lift. There's a little terrain park under the lift. I taking the short lift up and shooting down through the terrain park. There's tons of little jumps. It was fun as hell until I took off on one, got way back on my skis, almost landed on my ass, and when I tried to save it, I hyperextended my right knee. I could feel a tweak of pain in the knee. I got up. I wiped the snow off my glasses. I headed down and found Russell waiting for me at the little barbeque place outside the gondola.

He'd already eaten lunch and I wasn't all that hungry. I just needed to rest and stretch out my knee. I felt good enough to ski in about half an hour, but it never really felt right. I was tentative. No more jumping, no more hard carving turns. It wasn't that bad, but it was the worst skiing injury I've had since I fell and bit my lip when I was 14 or so.

We returned to the house around 4:30. I whipped up a blender full of banana daiquiris and washed that down with a few beers. By the time I hit the hot tub, I pretty numb. I couldn't feel anything let alone my knee.

I should be able to ski tomorrow, but we'll see.

Days Skied This Season: 17

After the heat of last last weekend, I had thought winter was over, we bypassed spring and went right into summer. But Mother Nature is playing tricks with us this season. Right when the ski season looked done, she dumped down several more feet of snow in the Sierras. Amazing.

Of course, I didn't know the snow would dump so hard when I left Alameda on Saturday evening. It was a beautiful, clear albeit windy day in East Bay. I knew it was snowing in Tahoe. It's the reason that I decided it was worth it to head up for one day. But who could have foreseen this blizzard?

I left the house a few hours before sunset and right when darkness settled over Northern California, the rain came down in sheets. I was just east of Sacramento. As I headed up into the hills along the 50, the rain slowed down, and I ascended into a sea of fog so thick that I missed the exit for the IN-N-OUT Burger in Placerville. I had to settle for a bag of beef jerky from the German St. Pauli Inn near Pollock Pines.

I came through the fog well before Southfork and the rain was coming down all the way to around 5000 feet. Just past the little hamlet of Kyburz snow was coming down hard. Chain control was in effect and I was waved through the checkpoint in the Subaru, laughing at the poor souls with 2-wheel drive who had to stop by the side of the road to put on chains. But then it was slow going from there. Despite the rain and the fog, I had made great time so far because there was no traffic. But now I was stuck behind bechained vehicles meandering up to the summit at a somnambulant 25 MPH. I put the Subie into 3rd gear and settled in for the long haul.

I made South Lake about 8:30. The house was packed. There was no parking in the driveway, so I pulled, white trash style, into the area that last weekend was our front lawn, but now was covered with about 6 inches of fresh white snow. It seemed like a smart idea at the time, but I would come to regret it.

About half of the house went out for dinner. The rest, including half a dozen guests from Colorado were playing Trivial Pursuit in front of a roaring fire. I grabbed a beer from the balcony and joined in. I'm pretty good at Trivial Pursuit. I might have a lousy memory, but I can almost always conjure up the useless pieces of information (what's the capital of Chile? Who counted himself out in May, 1968?, etc.) Plus, you know, I read, listen to the news, and was the beneficiary of damn good secondary education. Anyway, pretty soon the drunks fools around the table were giving me shit for being a ringer and knowing all the answers, which I didn't, just the right ones. They said, how the fuck do you know all this? I said, didn't you people go to college?

Dinner was pathetic. Some of the girls went to the store and came back with a bag of frozen potstickers and a box of cheese tortellini. Not exactly the primo stuff the guys cook up (black bean chicken, shrimp fajitas, polenta, poached salmon, grilled marinated rib eye). The girls in our house are a sad lot.

We played poker after dinner and I went to sleep, at least tried to sleep around 1. There were about 19 people staying in the house, so there were bodies everywhere. I tried first to sleep on one of the downstairs couch, but it's a pullout, and someone had taken out the mattress and put it on the floor, so I kept sinking into the heart of the sofa and couldn't get comfortable. Right about the time that I moved to the floor and started to get comfy, Ed, his brother Hans, and buddy Craig came in. They were stinking drunk. You could smell them. But they quickly disappeared upstairs and passed out on the floor. Then the electricity went out, which was a blessing at first since it killed the orange street lights that stream in through our front window, but within a few minutes the alarm starting going, releasing a horribly high-pitched, repetitive and unbelievably annoying beep. That was about 3am. Ben got up, found the Leatherman in the dark, ripped the alarm from the wall and cut the wires. Silence. I went back to sleep, or tried to go back to sleep. Before I could drift off, some of the Colorado guests came downstairs to catch their early morning shuttle to the airport. I tossed and turned. Before I knew it, the sky was getting light. I never did get back to sleep.

In the morning I made myself oatmeal and had a cup of green tea to perk up. Most everyone was headed for Kirkwood. Ed, Hans & Craig, all hung-over came with me to Heavenly. Outside, it was still snowing. The Subaru was covered (see above). We dug Kristen's Jetta out of the snow and put on chains so she could take her friend Karen to the airport. The four of us hopped in Ed's massive truck and headed up to the mountain.

I really wanted to get up there early, to be at the base at 8:30 when the lifts open, to make fresh tracks for the first time this year. Despite all the snowfall we've had, because I've only skied on weekends, I've missed most of the powder. I've caught a little here and there between the trees, but nothing like what I skied in Vail last year. So I wanted to be there early, but it wasn't to be. It's hard when you're dragging 3 drunks up to the mountain. We had to stop at Safeway for them to get breakfast. Then they had to wait in line to get lift tickets. Hans had to run off to buy goggles. By the time were going up Gunbarrel, it was already 9:30. There were tracks and skiers everywhere.

But there was also snow everywhere. So much of it that most people didn't know what to do. Beginners, skiers and snowboarders alike, were stuck in what looked like 18 inches of thick powder. We went up Powder Bowl and came down under the lift. It was great. Snow was falling. The powder was deep, deeper than almost anything I've seen. But it was hard work, slogging through that much snow and by the time I got the bottom of Power Bowl, I was feeling it in the quads already. It was just to one of the those days.

High winds kept the Sky Lift closed which meant we were stuck on the California side with 3 main lifts open. That sorta sucked, but wasn't a real problem until just after midday when the crowds turned the lift lines into a forced 20 minute break. But by that time, we had half a dozen runs under our belt, were all beat and needed to grab some lunch.

On one of the rides up the 6 person Powder Bowl life, we were joined by this 8-year old girl snowboarding with her mom. This girl, Jade, started giving Hans a hard time about his gloves, these old mauve and fuchsia leather things from the 80s that he was wearing because the last time he was skiing, he got so drunk at the end of the day that he forgot his gloves and his helmet in the back seat.

So Jade, this little 8-year old, is saying, look at those "girly-girl" gloves. Where did you get those? All the way up the lift. Her mom is telling her to stop being a smart ass, but through clenched teeth, because she's trying hard not to laugh. Ed, Craig and I are delirious. As we get off the lift, Jade is saying, wait girly-girl, I want to ride with you, wait, wait. We take off. When we get back to the Powder Bowl maze, Jade and mom are nowhere to be found. But by this time, the lines are long, so before we get to the front, Jade comes swooping in under the lines with mom in tow and joins us. Hey girly-girl, she says to Hans. See I told you I could catch. And then she just goes nuts. Girly-girl! Girly-girl! I want to ride with Girly-girl! I'm in pain because I'm laughing so hard. Hans is smiling and trying to pretend that it's not happening. Her mom is trying to get her to stop, but, nothing is going to deter Jade. Looks like Hans has got himself a new girlfriend.

At lunch, Ed decided it would be a good idea to head down, get in the car and drive over to the Nevada side. Normally, I would be down for that. It takes way to long to gear down, get over there, about a 15 minute drive, gear up and get back on the slopes. But my legs were killing me, so I the idea of an even longer break was welcome.

So we went down Gunbarrel, hopped in the car and drove to Nevada. On the way over, the hazing of Hans continued. Craig had brought up these two-way radios and he had been calling Hans, Hey Girly-Girl, you got your ears on? over. Poor Hans has a new handle. He took it well, but I think this one is going to stick.

Over in Nevada, we found parking at the Stagecoach lodge right near the lift and geared up again. It was colder over in Nevada. The snow was a little better, there were fewer people, but most of the lifts were closed because of high winds and my legs were completely shot. I skied 5 or 6 more runs and hit the pub for a Kahlua & coffee.

Back at the house, we ordered some pizza, grabbed some beer and hit the hot tub. Glorious. I tried to hit the road just about 6:30, but when I went to move the Subaru, I got stuck. I was shocked. I've never been stuck in Subie. I even jammed down into 1st gear, but the wheel just spun around. So I had to fetch the damn snow shovel and dig myself out. I was cold. I was wearing regular leather shoes. I took way too long and I felt like an idiot. By the time I got the Subaru on the road, it was after 7, darker than steer's tuchus on a moonless night, and snowing like a bitch.

The ride over the summit was a slow nightmare. The roads had been plowed, but not recently and there was a bechained oldsmobuick making 25 MPH blocking my way. I couldn't see any of the lines on the road, so it was hard to pass, and when I finally did, I just came up on another slow ass car. It was exactly like the ascent in reverse. The snow stopped falling around 5000 ft. and turned into driving rain that was easier to drive in, but still treacherous around the curvy turns of Highway 50. It took me almost two hours to drive the 60 miles to Placerville. By the time I reached Alameda, it was after 11 and I was so beat I barely acknowledged the cats before I crashed on my feather bed.

It was a crazy weekend. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

The rain has been coming down steadily here in the Bay Area and, amazingly, the snow continues to dump in the Sierras. So I'll be in Tahoe again. I can't wait.

Days Skied This Season: 16

Last night was the first Friday night I spent in my own bed since the first week of the year. I hung around town to see some friends, John & Betty Baboujon, who I haven't seen since before I moved to Vail last year. When I was down in LA for after I came back from Samoa, they were living in Paris. When I was down there again two weeks ago, they were visiting family in Sydney. So it was well worth killing a ski day to have dinner with my jet-setting friends in Buglingame last night and lunch in Alameda today.

But it's been snowing in Tahoe. The 50 is closed to cars without chains or 4WD with snow tires (Subaru, I call upon your powers!). Anyway, I'm off in a few minutes. I checked the Heavenly webcams and it's looking nasty as shit up there, but the prospect of even a few inches of powder tomorrow has me aching to get my tuchus up there.

My forearms are sunburned. That should tell you everything you need to know about hot it was in Heavenly this weekend. Winter, for what it's worth, is essentially over. Snow is melting all over the place. I came down from the hill after a day of skiing to find people picnicking by the lake, strolling around in shorts, walking dogs and doing all manner of things that one does not normally associate with winter. The days of dumping snow are over, perhaps. It could snow more this season, April showers and all, but it's hard to believe when you see people driving down HWY 50 in an open convertible.

Our lease on the house runs through the first week of May. I might have to start bringing my mountain bike up there to get some exercise. There's still a good base of snow, but the coverage is getting weak in places and if this 50+ degree weather keeps up for any length of time, the whole mountain is going slide ride down into the lake.

Days Skied This Season: 15

I finally succumbed to peer pressure from the rest of the house and headed off to Kirkwood instead of Heavenly. It was a good decision.

Kirkwood is about 35 minutes up into the mountains south of South Lake Tahoe, so it doesn't get the crowds that Heavenly, which is right on top of the Stateline casinos. It's nice to be able to hop in the car and be on the slopes in 15 minutes at Heavenly. But it's nicer to get a little further and ski a beautiful and uncrowned place like Kirkwood. I had skied there once or twice on family trips in high school, but with my famous memory, it was like skiing a new resort for the first time.

I drove up with up with Russell. He's one of the resident computer geeks, coding compilers for some small Silicon Valley startup (I didn't realize we still had startups these days). He grew up skiing in Vermont, went to some boarding school with a ski team, so even though he's probably carrying 75 pounds more than the day he graduated, he can still rip it up, but normally only for short periods.

I was going to push him because I needed to feel like I got good value for my lift ticket. We headed out for the backside of the mountain. Immediately there were some glaring differences between Heavenly and Kirkwood besides the crowds. The lifts at Kirkwood are dog slow, but the terrain is much, much steeper. Advantage: Push.

The backside is a huge bowl area accessed by one slower than shit quad chair. Double Diamonds all over the place. It was early, so we stuck to the blues, which at Kirkwood are actually blue whereas at Heavenly which has some absurd trail inflation, the blues are teal. Advantage Kirkwood.

When we headed back to the front side around noon, we met up with Kristen and Ben and tried out the Cornice. The Cornice is one thing. Steep. The lift up there is the only fast detachable quad on the mountain, so it's ferrying skiers and riders up there almost as fast as they can come down, which is damn fast. If the snow was a little better, it would have been great, but much of the top layer had been skied off and the top was icy, which is difficult under normal circumstances, but on a 45 degree pitch, it was extremely challenging. My legs were like noodles when I made it down. Time for lunch.

After lunch, Russell and I discovered chair 2, which a few cruising runs facing the sun so the snow was soft and perfect for the big arcing turns that I like. Just before we called it a day, we decided to see if we take on the Wall. The Wall is steeper than the Cornice. There are signs at the bottom of the lift that say, "Experts Only" in a big black bold font. In case, you don't get it or you don't read English, there's a massive skull and cross bones that should clue you in to the fact that you probably don't belong up there. But should be surprised that you can find gappers plowing down the wall? Of course not.

We get up there and it's late in the day, the clouds are starting the come in the north, the sun is setting, it's cold, and it's the most crowded run we've been on. There are people everywhere waiting to drop into the Wall. As I was standing up there, I was watching this woman who looked like she was on skis for the first time. You just have to shake your head. I waited for the run to get reasonably clear of people, which was really not clear at all, skied far to the left away from most of them and made my way down without incident or much enjoyment, really. I'm going to need to get up there again on a day with a little more snow and far fewer people.

One more run on the backside and another on the sunny Caples Creek and we were done. It was a long, hard, great, beautiful day and I can't wait to come back to Kirkwood. I bought the "ski 2 days in 7 for 88 bucks" pass, so I'll be back next Saturday barring some strange occurrence.

Days Skied This Season: 6

Saturday was a busy day on the mountain. The combination of new snow and warm weather drew folks from all over the place. It was so busy that I couldn't get over to the Nevada side because I didn't want to wait in the 100 person deep singles line on the Sky Express. Instead I stuck it out on the California side, moving from the Canyon Express to the Powderbowl Express and skiing where no one else seemed to want to ski, in the trees. The snow was still really great between the pines. There was 6-12 inches of fresh fluffy powder and no one around.

By lunch I had skied about 25 runs and was exhausted. I was planning on skiing a few more runs and then hitting the road, but at the last minute I decided to join the ski tour with a US Forest Service Ranger, a nice older guy named Mike. It was a small group, just Mike, me, and a snowboarder from Palo Alto named Beth.

We skied a few runs, stopping at places on the mountain where Mike would talk about the trees, the wildlife, the relationship between Heavenly and the U.S. Government (the whole resort in on public land). It was interesting, but mostly unmemorable. That is, until Mike told us about the dead of Lake Tahoe. Mike said about 6 people per year drown in the lake.

There are all sorts of accidents, he said. Sometimes people get drunk, fall off the boat, and get hypothermia before they can be rescued. The lake is cold. It's so cold, says Mike, that unlike in other places where drowned bodies decompose, release gas and rise back to the surface, the dead bodies of Tahoe just sink to the bottom and stay there, perfectly preserved in a lake with an average depth of 1000 feet.

Supposedly there are hundreds of bodies down there. Accident victims. Murdered Chinese railway workers. And certainly some wearing concrete galoshes. There are rumors around that Jacques Cousteau took a film crew down to the depths of the lake, but decided to destroy the footage saying something like, people are not ready to see what's down there, but it's just a rumor.

Days Skied This Season: 5

Have you ever taken off in a plane on an overcast day. It's miserable on the ground. It's grey. It's cloudy. It's probably cold. The plane leaves the runway. It ascends through the clouds and emerges into brilliant sunlight. If you know that feeling, then you know how I felt skiing Heavenly this past weekend, skiing above the clouds.

I had read the weather forecast and it was supposed to be over 40 so I was surprised when I woke up at the house on Saturday morning and it was all fogged in a looking miserable. I bundled up, called the shuttle and headed for the California Lodge. It was chilly on the lift at 9am, but as I made my way to top, I broke through the layer of clouds and fog and emerged into a sea of sunshine. Below me, the lake was invisible, completely shrouded in puffy grey clouds and ringed by snow-capped peaks. It was absolutely beautiful.

I skied hard all morning then met up with Kristen and her friend, a novice snowboarder and took it easy in the afternoon. Sunday was exactly the same, nasty cloud cover in town and brilliant and sunny on the mountain. And forget 40 degrees. It was easily 50. I was skiing in one of my Samoan shirts. Spring skiing in winter is a novelty to be sure, but we can't keep this up and have much of a ski season despite all the recent snowfall. Early word is that it's supposed to snow this week.

Days Skied This Season: 4

Late in the afternoon on Sunday, I was going up single on Canyon Lift. The two guys to my right were talking about cholesterol drugs. Guy #1 was doing most of the talking. He was saying to Guy #2 that he was worried about his cholesterol drugs because his doctor told him that one of the side effects was liver failure. Guy #1 said he'd been taking these drugs of one kind or another for 8 years. Guy #1 said that he'd much rather not take the drugs and get arteriosclerosis, which can be "cured" with bypass surgery than have liver failure and. Guy #2 nodded in agreement.

This conversation went on for the entire 5 minute ride. Not once during that entire time did either Guy #1 or Guy #2 mention anything about watching what Guy #1 eats, such as reducing or eliminating fried food, red meat, or saturated fat. Not once. Mind boggling. These guys probably left the mountain and went right to a fucking steak house for scotch and prime rib because Guy #1 thinks his Lipitor is some kind of miracle drug. Where does this mentality come from?

I get the same exact feeling from watching heartburn medication commercials which continually pop off on the idea that it don't matter what you eat, you big, fat lard ass (implied), because if you feel like shit after eating that bucket of fried chicken, just take one of these little purple pills, and all is good. And you wonder why we have a health care crisis in this country.

It was good to finally get up to Heavenly for the weekend. The skiing was great. The weather was beautiful. The drive was manageable. The cats survived. Here's the recap:

I was talking to this couple from Palo Alto on the lift Sunday afternoon. He was telling me they had a rough time this weekend. Their car broke down, so they rented a car to make the drive to Tahoe. He also told me that they had rented their ski equipment from some local place in PA, but didn't look at closely because when they got to Tahoe, they realized that he had two left ski boots. This was funny enough, but then he said he tried a left boot on his right foot and said it fit. I told him he was probably a great dancer. His wife/girlfriend was laughing. It took him a second, but he finally got it.

I'm off to Tahoe tonight to finally break in my season ski pass at Heavenly. I was planning on going each of the past two weekends but for one reason or another (no skis, too much snow, roads closed, mom in town) I didn't make it. No more excuses. It's time to hit the slopes.

I'll bring along my camera and I should get some decent pics. I should also have some good stories about my ski lease. I rented a place with 16 other people in South Lake Tahoe for the rest of the season. I've only met one of them. He seemed nice. Who knows about the rest. I'm sure it will be interesting. All I really care about now is making it up there safely and coming home in one piece.

I was planning on hitting the road to Tahoe and skiing this weekend, but so much snow is dumping in the Sierras (again) that the road is closed, even for all-wheel drive cars, like mine. It really blows becaue this is the starting weekend for my ski lease. I and 16 people I haven't met rented a house in South Lake Tahoe between Heavenly and Kirkwood for the rest of the season.

With all the snow we've already had this year, it should be an awesome season. Hopefully I'll be able to get up there at least every other weekend.

It's been raining here all week which means snow, snow and more snow in Tahoe. I don't know if it's any kind of record, but there has been more than 8 (EIGHT) feet of snow in the last couple of days. There's been so much snow that both the I80 and the I50 leading from the Bay Area to Lake Tahoe have been shut down. That's great news for people already up there, but not so great for us folks stuck down in the flatlands.

Anyway, I was hoping the roads would clear up and I could get up there on New Year's Day. So yesterday I went and dropped my rusty skis off at Marmot Mountain Sports to get a desperately needed tune-up. The ski tech said they'd be ready by noon today. Great. Couldn't ask for more than that. Except it would have been nice for him to let me know that while the skis might be done, the shop would be closed, which it was when I went to pick them up this afternoon. Details, details. For all I know my skis are all sharpened and waxed and ready to roll. I could go up anyway and rent a pair of skis, but I think I'll wait until Monday or Tuesday

URGENT - WINTER WEATHER MESSAGE
NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE RENO NV
342 AM PST TUE DEC 28 2004

HEAVY SNOW TO FALL IN THE SIERRA AND MUCH OF EASTERN CALIFORNIA LATE WEDNESDAY NIGHT THROUGH FRIDAY

.TWO LOW PRESSURE SYSTEMS ARE EXPECTED TO MOVE ACROSS THE REGION
OVER THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS. THE FIRST IS CURRENTLY OFF THE CALIFORNIA
COAST AND WILL MOVE INLAND TONIGHT AND WEDNESDAY. THIS SYSTEM WILL
BRING PERIODS OF LIGHT TO MODERATE SNOW TO THE SIERRA TODAY AND
TONIGHT.

A MORE SIGNIFICANT SYSTEM DROPPING DOWN FROM THE GULF OF ALASKA WILL
MOVE INTO NORTHERN CALIFORNIA WEDNESDAY NIGHT PRODUCING HEAVY SNOW
AND STRONG WINDS OVER THE SIERRA AND EASTERN CALIFORNIA. AN UPPER
LEVEL TROUGH WILL REMAIN OVER THE REGION RESULTING IN PERIODS OF SNOW
CONTINUING THROUGH THE WEEKEND.

CAZ072-NVZ002-282330-
GREATER LAKE TAHOE AREA-
342 AM PST TUE DEC 28 2004

[MORE]

Tahoe Snow Report:

SNOW LEVELS ARE EXPECTED TO START OUT AROUND 7000 FEET THIS MORNING...BEFORE DROPPING DOWN TO NEAR THE VALLEY FLOORS TUESDAY NIGHT. TOTAL SNOW ACCUMULATIONS OF 5 TO 10 INCHES ARE EXPECTED BELOW 7000 FEET ...WITH 1 TO 2 FEET ABOVE 7000 FEET. THERE MAY BE A BREAK IN THE SNOWFALL TUESDAY EVENING ...BEFORE ADDITIONAL SNOW DEVELOPS WEDNESDAY AS ANOTHER DISTURBANCE APPROACHES FROM CENTRAL CALIFORNIA.

I heard on the news this morning that there could be 12 feet of snow in the Sierras, but I think the news anchor was confused and actually meant 1-2 feet, but I'll take it. Heavenly plans to open on the 19th. Before then I need to get my tail down to San Diego where I left all my ski gear and fetch it back up here. I have a feeling it's going to be an awesome season.

Two good things happened to me this morning. The first is that I paid my Visa bill in full and longer have any credit card debt. The second is that I my Season Ski Pass for Heavenly is bought and paid for.

It was a no brainer. The pass costs only 300 bucks for the entire season. That's right. Only 300 bucks. I don't know what Heavenly charges for day passes, but I do know that the mountain is owned by Vail Resorts where a lift ticket costs 73 bucks a day during most of the season. So for slightly more than the cost of four full-priced days, I can ski all season.

It's not going to be the same as last year where I lived in Vail and skied every day, but I will ski as many weekends as I want and take at least one and probably two full week vacations in the Sierras. On top of that, the pass also includes 3 days at Vail, Beaver Creek or Breckenridge, so I want to make a trip back to Colorado, I can ski for free.

So it's time to wax my skis and sharpen my edges and get ready to hit the slopes!

The rain has been coming down hard all night and all morning. People here in California have no clue how to drive in the wet, so it took me a half hour longer to get to work than usual. That's the bad news.

The good news is that the Sierras are going to get 2 to 3 feet of snow, which is a great start to pack the base for ski season just around the corner. I'm going to be picking up a season pass for Heavenly Lake Tahoe. It's only $299 for the entire season with a few blackout dates. If things go well, I should get 20-30 days of skiing in, and for a working stiff like me, that's hard to beat.

I wanted to get out of the WC today and head up Heavenly where they have re-opened the mountain for the day to celebrate something. I don't know what. I really wanted to ski. I don't want my season to end just yet, but I couldn't justify the trip because they were only running the gondola. Even at 40 bucks for a lift ticket, which on most days would seem a bargain, the thought of skiing a run and standing in a massive line at the gondola was enough for me not to make the three hour trip back east to Tahoe.

Squaw Valley is open until the end of the month and if we get any significant snowfall, I'm there.

Arapahoe Basin has snow. A lot of it. But to call A-Basin a ski resort is an insult to other resorts. There's no town. There's no lodging. There's no mid-mountain chalet. There's no summit lodge. There's just a parking lot on the side of the road. And there's just 6 lifts. And on the day I skied there, only five were running and one of them was the 3 pole lift on the kiddie hill and another was the "magic carpet" surface lift for the ski school, so really, there's just 3. A-Basin, however, has snow. Did I mention that? A lot of snow. The reason is that the base of the "resort" is 10780 feet, almost as high as any point at Vail.

To get to A-Basin, you head down the I-70 east from Vail towards Denver. Pass Copper Mountain. Drive through Frisco (Breckenridge). Continue on past Silverthorne (Keystone) and follow the winding road up into the mountains towards the Loveland Pass. Pull into the dirt parking lot, get your gear on and get you ass on the hill. It's that kind of place (aka no-nonsense).

At 10780 feet, Arapahoe Basin is the highest ski resort in Colorado. Because of its base elevation, the resort gets more and better snow than any any place around these parts. It also tries to stay open until July 4th, which isn't going to help me because I'm getting the fuck out of Dodge shortly. I'm hoping that being Monday the place is going to be empty and since we got dumped on here in Avon yesterday, that the snow will nice and fresh. The lifts open at 9 and I plan on being one of the first skiers on the mountain. Adios.

There was no one on the road when I made the 45 minute trip east down I-70 to Breckenridge at a 7:45am. I stopped in Frisco for a bagel and, because it was the second to last day of the season, I was able to park right next to the lifts, above the lifts actually so that I got out of my car, put on my gear and skied down to the 6 seater Quicksilver Express.

My first impression of Breck was that the bottom of the mountain was etremely flat. The chair hummed along the shallowest grade terrain I have ever seen at any resort. But at the top of the lift, Breck shoots up and is as steep and wide as any place I have ever skied. I started on the southernmost slopes, Peak 10 and worked my way across the mountain.

I'm off this morning for a day of skiing at Breckenridge, about 45 minutes east of here. I've always wanted to ski at Breck. In fact, when I originally came out to Colorado I wanted to work there and was somewhat disappointed when I landed a job at Vail.

According to the resorts web site, there's two new inches of snow of the ground with more to come today. Half the mountain is closed, which is bummer, but there are still 15 of 27 lifts operating and since I only paid 15 bucks for a lift ticket, that's something I can live with.

Skiing a resort for the first time is something like visiting a country for the first or doing anything interesting for the first time for that matter. Everything is new. Lifts, runs, vistas, people, culture. All new and different. I'm really looking forward to getting there.

Today wasn't a busy day on the mountain, being Easter and all. So instead of shooting patrons, we spent a good chunk of the day taking shots of each other. I went out in the afternoon with my fellow action photographer Oly from New Zealand. We took turns photographing each other doing fairly inadvisable things. Since there are already too many pictures of me on this site, here are some of Oly taking wing on his snowboard at Vail.

On Brian's last day at Vail, I had to work, which sucked, because the mountain was gloriously covered in 9 inches of spanking new snow and I wanted to do nothing more than ski all over the place. Instead we got only 2 runs in the morning before I had to photograph the Pete Seibert Vail Mountain Marathon.

Pete Seibert's Vail Mountain Marathon is the step child of Warren Miller's Mad Mountain Marathon, a 150-gate end of season extravaganza for charity. That race that has been on hold for a few years since Mr. Miller moved away from Vail Valley. Pete Seibert, the son of the Vail's founder (that's him in the picture), revitalized the race this year. I was lucky enough to be chosen to shoot it.

I shot more than a hundred racers from 10 to noon. I got some decent pics. If I don't get too lazy I'll try to put a gallery with some of the best. The race went until 1, but I kept seeing the same faces (you could race the 50 gate course as many times as you liked for your 20 buck entry fee -- one kid went down 21 times - INSANE!), so I left to ski with Brian.

We spent the better part of the afternoon skiing Hunky Dory under Chair 3 enjoying absoltutely perfect conditions (great snow and blue skies) until hunger sent us up to the Wildwood Grill where I chowed down on a massive plate of waffle cut fries buried in chili, cheese and onions.

As the day neared an end, we made our way to gondola because I had an appointment to shoot a group of 34 people. They were incredibly cooperative. The shoot was quick, the pictures eminently sellable. Then we got in the long line to download the gondola to save our legs from the slop at the bottom of the mountain.

For both of us, it was a great way to end Brian's short visit to Vail. A perfect day with perfect conditons.

Day four promised to be really good. Brian was starting to acclimate and adjust to his new equipment. We had a few inches of fresh snow on the mountain overnight despite heavy rains at 8000 feet. And I didn't have to work. Yes!

The plan was to warm up on the front side and then head as quickly as possible to Blue Sky Basin where we would ski and barbeque some snags. It was cold, overcast with cobalt grey skies, but it didn't matter because there was three inches of new snow overnight and the white stuff continued to fall as we made our way up the mountain.

On Day three, we headed back to Vail. Partly because the snow is better there than The Beav, but also because I had to work. I talked to Kurt in the morning and we agreed that I would only work in the afternoon, shooting the kids race up at the Thunder Cat Race Course, my usual Thursday gig and a very lucrative hour.

Because I had to shoot this race, we stuck to the front side, skiing mostly Game Creek Bowl and Chair 3. At 12:45 we made our way to the race course to shoot the race that started at one. But when I got there, I could see Oly, one of the other action shooters, already there shooting. I was pissed. I walked up and asked him what he was doing there. He said that Kurt told him that I wasn't working. I really pissed. How the fuck could he do that?

On day two, I figured we'd head for Beaver Creek. It was probably going to be our only chance to visit "America's Grand Resort", plus it's right outside my doorstep. Shit, I can see the place out of the window of my single wide. However the day was kind of fucked again.

In the morning, we went to Christy Sports and rented Brian a pair of K2 Escapes and some boots that actually fit. That problem solved, we hit the slopes. One of the great things about Beaver Creek is that there is free parking. Two huge lots are serviced by massive shuttles that run every few minutes. We parked, slipped into our boots, grabbed our skis and paced over to the shuttle stop. Helpful valets grab our skis and place them in the rack behind the bus. (at the top, similarly helpful valets remove the skis from the rack and hand them to you as you exit the bus).

Day One got off to a rough start and ended just as bad. Brian, still jet-lagged, a bit out of skiing shape (he hadn't skied in over a year before coming to Vail), unaccustomed to the altitude, and on old skis with a pair of boots that didn't fit well, had some trouble keeping up with me. The poor quality of the springtime snow didn't help much. We took two runs in Game Creek and we had to take a break at Wildwood at the top of Chair 3. At least the sun was out and the skies were blue.

Brian got his lungs back, but the boots were putting a tremendous amount of pressure on his thighs and the pain was killing him. Despite this, he soldiered on, following me deep into the Back Bowls all the way to Blue Sky Basin and back.

The snow back there was sloppy. It had rained at the base of Chairs 36 and 37. Where the cat track at the bottom wasn't icy, it was a slushy mess. I was surprised, because Blue Sky usually has the best snow on the mountain. The conditions at the top were better. We skied a few runs (Big Rock Park) before stopping at Belle's Camp for roast beef and turkey sandwiches (made by yours truly).

I broke down last week and despite not having a place to stay in after the 20th (that's changed now, obviously), I bought a new pair of skis and a new pair of boots.

The skis are something I've been salivating over since I arrived in Vail. They are fat twin-tip Salomon "Pocket Rockets". They are so fun I can hardly believe it. I'm ripping all over the mountain in ways I never thought possible. The boots are Lange which I bought because they were on sale from $425 to $70 and fit like a glove which is more than I can say for my other boots which are awful.

My old Rossi skis are fine. There's nothing wrong with per se, but the Pocket Rockets just blow them off the mountain.

The Salomon Pocket Rocket has made quite a name for itself among today's freeriders. The space-age graphics make you stop and gawk but its performance on the hill is what's most impressive. With tip-waist-tail measurements that dwarf traditional fat skis, and it's typical Salomon soft flex, this ski makes an incredible powder tool and excellent touring ski. Oh yeah, did we mention it has twin tips?

It's a lovely day in the Vail Valley. It's snowed a few inches last night and I'm off to Vail's neighboring ski resort, Beaver Creek, self-proclaimed as "America's Grand Resort." If being "Grand" means charging $4.25 for a Sobe at a mid-mountain lodge, then Beaver Creek is a grand as it gets.

I usually ski there at least one day of my "weekend" just for some variety, but I truly love the place and prefer it over most of Vail. There are no crowds. The slopes are as well maintained as any place I have ever been. The vistas are incredible. It's just an amazing place. I will post some pictures when I get back tonight.

Ski Patrol has a hard enough job without people acting like complete unconscious idiots on the slopes, but that's what I see every day. People fall over, that's going to happen, but all collisions are avoidable. People just need to have an once of self-awareness or caring in their bodies, but they don't.

Just yesterday, I saw two skiers collide about 20 yards above from where I was shooting. A guy wearing an orange jacket was skiing way too fast and out of control and he hit another skier, who smashed his head against the ground was so concussed he didn't know where he was. He didn't even know what day it was. And this happened right below two huge yellow signs that say "SLOW". The amazing thing is that it doesn't happen more often.

Skiing is a great pleasure for me, but I'm growing weary of skiing by myself. For whatever reason, it has always been more pleasurable to ski with someone I know than to ski alone. Probably something about sharing the moment or having someone to talk to on the lifts.

My skiing life has been very unusual. I started, thanks to my dad, at the age of 3, for which I'm very thankful. I skied every year, at least one week a year until 1989, when there was a divergence between the cost of lift tickets and my finances. Between 1989 and when I moved to Vail eariler this year, I had skied exactly two days, one day in Turkey and one day in Bulgaria, both in 1999.

I had plenty of opportunities to ski when I lived in Bay Area. Friends were constantly going on weekend and day trips to Tahoe, but I never went. I could have gone on ski trips in the intervening years, but I always chose to travel overseas, usually to hot places instead. I did try to make a few trips overseas, but I had my plans quashed, once when my visa for Iran was denied and once when Clinton decided to bomb Iraq as a distraction from the Monica Lewinsky thing which made it difficult for me to go Lebanon as planned (I had visas for Lebanon and Syria).

Hopefully my brother will come out to Colorado soon and I have someone good to ski with for at least a week or so.

I've been skiing for years (since 1973) and not once during that time have I seen what I look like on the slopes, that is until earlier this week when my buddy Adam took a few shots of me on my day off.

This is probably the best of the lot. It actually looks like I might know what I'm doing, at least for the split second that he hit the shutter release.

Yesterday, on Valentine's Day, I fell in love. With a pair of skis.

Sales reps from Nordica, famous for their boots, were out demoing their latest skis. (for those not familiar with the sport, demoing skis is like test driving a car). So in the morning before I went out to shoot, I demoed a pair Nordica's most expensive skis, fat black things dubbed "The Beast".

I skied only a few runs, but it obvious the difference in performance between these monsters and my little Rossignols. Because of their width, they would plow through the crustiest snow. The edges were so responsive and when I would carve a turn, I would pick up speed. They glided across flatter terrain like nothing I've ever been on.

I had a chat with Zack, the sales rep, and he said that because I was a "ski professional" (that made me laugh) he could sell them to me for $395 instead of the $975 retail tag. If I had the money, I'd plunk it right down, but it's not just a matter of the skis to consider, there's also the bindings and you can't buy cheap bindings to go with the top of the line skis, can you? So all-in-all, the whole package will run closer to $700 than $400, but can you put a price on love?

It could possibly be a great day today because:

A) The sun is shining
B) It's the first day of a three day weekend
C) It's the first day in a long time that I haven't had to run for the bus in the morning

If you thought you were in good shape, try running 200 yards for the bus carrying all your ski gear and wearing inflexible clothing at over 8,000 feet. You'll soon realize that you're badly out of shape.

As I work on the mountain, I am constantly reminded of the dangers of my chosen sport. During the two hours that I shoot on Born Free, I usually see in the neighborhood of 3-5 people being ferried down the mountain in Ski Patrol sleds. The odd thing is I just see the sleds. I have no idea what happened to them or how badly they were injured.

There's really nothing like floating down the mountain in ribbons of soft, light, fresh powder. It's like flying. You can't see your skis. You can barely see ahead of you because so much snow is blasting all over the place. You just glide down in gently arcing turns. It's glorious.

This morning, after a foot of snow dumped all night here in the Vail valley, there was fresh powder all over the mountain. I was in heaven. I skied from about 8:45 to 11 when I had to start working, by which time I was exhausted from powering down so hard on my thighs.

It was snowing and it could have been warmer, but I don't think I've ever had a nicer morning of skiing anywhere. It is supposed to dump all week so the snow should get even better in the up coming days.

Snow is lightly falling and it's close to zero outside, so it's tougher than you think to make the decision to ski or not to ski. The argument for is that it's my day off. I have a season pass, so I ski free instead of paying 73 bucks to ski at the most expensive resort in the country. I need to get into better shape. There's also a good chance that the sun is going to come out later and make for some really good photography. That's it. I've convinced myself. I'm probably going to go in the next few minutes after I post this.