And like that--poof--it is game on again in Tahoe. I awoke at 3 am and decided to check on the snowfall. Stupid, stupid move. Upon seeing the deck buried and the sky absolutely pounding, I couldn't sleep for the next two hours. In the midst of my restless stirring, my fiancee tried to offer a bit of reassurance with a simple, "We'll be skiing soon," before drifting off again.
Fired up the snowblower at 6 am. It hasn't seen action since early Feb/late January? Since then, our snowbanks have receded from formidable walls to little driveway borders that neighborhood dogs could hop onto and poop. Many have feared winter was done, some have given up altogether. I've tried to reassure them that late storms pound us every year after a thaw, and some of the best pow skiing in Tahoe goes down in late March and April. To many just remember last year when that failed to hold true.
So, I'm in the Squaw KT line at 7:15, enough for 3rd chair. A short window of light offers the maze crowd enough visibility to scope the Fingers, but unfortunately they've ripped out wall to wall. The summery temps of a week ago left the mountain a boilerplate maze of Volkswagon bumps, and steeper areas had either melted to rock or turned to a veritable glaze. In many regions, such conditions would be extremely difficult to recover from for the remainder of the year, but here we get the coastal magic. The dense snow and windspeeds clocked at 98 mph on Siberia yesterday afternoon (112 mph gust at Alpine) have obliterated the ice bumps in just 36 hours, and runs that would have taken 5-10 minutes two days ago (merely for survival) are charged with maching AK arcing turns in 30 seconds. It was on.
But no, the day was not epic. The high avy danger made snow safety delay the opening from 8:30 to 9:10, and during that time the KT chair grew to ridiculous lengths. Fractures and rubble were everywhere, and for those who insisted on hucking, they could have been wearing blindfolds and had just about as much visibility. Some runs were in pure whiteout as the winds and snow raged on, setting up another glory day tomorrow. But there were gems; a couple of untracked runs in the shelter and vision-enhancing Red Dog Ridge trees were as good as any cat-skiing run you could ever get: soft, untouched, flat as a board, high-speed turns under the canopy of the old-growth forest.
I don't know if it snowed 8" or 36" (I think they're saying 16" as of this morning). It doesn't matter. The magic of Sierra storms took us from dismal to sensational in no time. In another foot or so we'll be begging for it to stop so that the rest of the buffed out paradise can open up. But that appears to be several days away...
Bookmarks