Yay Powder - March 2018

It’s funny: you forget how much you really love snow. That snow itself is actually what brought you here in the first place. And then it comes again in heaps and bountiful buckets and it’s like you’re a child lost in a winter-wonder reverie all over again.

            “Time to go skiing, kids!” I announce.

            “Yay!” the chorus of cheers ensues.

            “How much powder are you going to find today?” Wifey asks.

            “60 millions powder!” Michael exclaims.

            When I was a child growing up on the east coast, we’d drive for an entire day to get to a resort and then get a couple days of skiing and then drive home. To have skiing right in your backyard still blows my mind. Unfortunately, my daughter is less awe-struck.

            “What was your favorite part of skiing today, Jane?” I ask.

            “Nothing, because it was so cold.”

            “Skiing in a blizzard is fun.” I say.

            “No, Daddy. It’s just cold.”

            “Come on. I saw you having fun.”

            Jane looks at me with a scowl that seems to display an inner 6-year-old cost-benefit analysis, i.e. ‘what can I get out of him if I admit that I had fun.’

            “Okay.” She finally says, “the one thing I liked was the jumps on the side, but I need new gloves.”

            After $50 at Sports LTD we were both happier.

            The Heavenly Ski Development Program has been amazing for our kiddos again this year. The main reason that we signed Michael and Jane up was so that Wifey and I could get ski dates again. During the last storm, we hiked up Monument and got first and second tracks on the Minden Mile. We brought our shovel-beacon-probes and waited until after a freeze thaw cycle when the Sierra Avalanche Center dropped the danger level to “Moderate.” It was definitely memorable.

            “I think that might be the most consecutive powder turns I’ve ever taken,” Wifey says and then promptly collapses into the snow.

            “Yeah.” I agree while catching my breath. “That was one crazy long descent.”

            The other crazy thing about winter storms in South Lake Tahoe is the giant car-eating snow serpent that occupies the center of our main thoroughfare.

            “Wow Dad, that is one big fat snow snake,” Michael comments as we head out to our 2nd awesome powder day.

            “Yeah, it is,” I agree. “Almost as big as last year.”

            “It can barely move because the snow plows made it… and then they crushed it up way super high, but it’s like still alive and ready to eat cars.” Michael gesticulates enthusiastically.

            “I wonder how many cars this one has eaten,” I ponder.

            “A bunch. I bet… Hey, Dad.”

            “Yeah.”

            “Has the snow snake ever eaten you?”

            “There have been a few close calls back in my younger and more foolish days of snow snake adventures. But now, I know it’s not worth the risk of total public humiliation via devouring.”

            “Yeah, totally. The snow snake doesn’t have a head or a tail. It only has mouths all over.”

            “You are wise beyond your years, Michael.”

Powder, Do:

• Go get some.

• Know how to use avalanche gear. 

Powder, Don’t:

• Be afraid of skiing in a blizzard.

• Get eaten by the Snowsnake.