They said it was the earliest start to the ski season in recent memory. They said it was dumping on the mountain. They said the ski areas would be packed.
Barkernews and I took heed. We loaded the Suby with skis, packs, and skins, and turned the car east towards the mountain. It was a Wednesday. The kid was in daycare. The snow was piling up.
And then we listened to the sound of our skis slowly climbing uphill as the snow soaked through our clothes.
Sure, we could have joined everyone and his brother at the ski area. But we have not yet acquired our season passes and we don't pay to ski. We did the next best thing- we earned our turns.
I'm afraid to say that we haven't earned our turns in a couple years. Being ski patrollers means ready access to passes. It's not a difficult decision between spending hours going uphill and 15 minutes skiing downhill or spending limited time sitting on a chairlift and lots of time wooshing downhill. We like to go downhill. A lot.
Wednesday was different. With the exception of a few wayward hitch-hiking snowboarders, the trail was quiet, the amount of snow immense. It seemed a fitting way to usher in a promising ski season, full of powder and steep runs and each other. Welcome, winter.
Between Wednesday and Saturday, the snow refused to stop. We headed up to Timberline Lodge for an entirely different experience on snow: our first ski patrol day of the season. Since Hazel was born, ski patrolling has become exponentially more complicated. Conversely, its meaningfulness has doubled. The equation works out in our favor- we just make it work, by splitting shifts or taking turns. It's not the same as it once was, but it's not worse either. We still get to ski patrol. We still get to hang out with family. We still get to be in the snow.
Barkernews took the morning baby-watching shift and Wonderboy took Hazel snowshoeing for an hour and then skinned up to Silcox Hut with Hazel and skied down. He gets my vote for Best Dad Ever. Meanwhile, I drooled at the sight of fresh, dry powder while I spent two hours putting up tower pads. As guests wooshed through knee-deep powder, I was tempted to ditch the red jacket with the white cross and take off after them. Alas, I did not. I performed my ski patrol duty, only to then help Ben carry a large man down a not-so-steep slope full of powder, rocks, and holes. That hurt.
Then my shift was over and Barkernews had his turn to patrol. He ended up skiing. A lot. Jerk.
To be fair, I did get some nice runs in while Lydia watched The Hizz. And they were pretty darn good.
I had to remind myself to take a deep breath, chill out, eat some snow, stay in that tele turn just a little bit longer (ouch ouch ouch). The snow season is just beginning. There will be many days of powder (and sometimes those days will fall on a Monday and I will *cough* be "sick").
I have patrol days and free ski days and Tele Tuesdays and Ladies Night and Colorado days and Spring Break days to look forward to, all filled with snow.
Winter is awesome.
