it started snowing monday as i was finishing up a couple of computer images. craig stopped by--at an appropriate social distance--and asked how much did i think we would get. i committed to 5 inches, with "anything more would be a gift from the goddesses! and i won't be coming into work."
it came down hard all evening and by the time we went up to bed, there was a good pile on top of the vehicles. we had our five inches already--and it was still snowing. it was also in the upper 20°s, and supposedly going to stay there. that meant i would be skiing in the morning. thank you goddesses!
tuesday: the plow went by around 3:30a and woke me. as i lay waiting for its return trip, i heard a telltale creeeck of the snow pack on the roof, releasing tension as it got ready to slide. they were coming only one or two every five minutes or so when the plow came back, around 4:00a. there was no way i was falling back to sleep.
i had an early breakfast with tea, while finishing up and posting a late, monday's 'word for the week' in ttyol. as soon as it got light enough, i put on my snow bibs and went out to shovel. at some point, i was surprised by pam, sticking her head out the door, "skip's on the phone." we had planned to meet up at cardigan 9:30~ish, after he remotely met with his students. his principal had called all that off with the announcement, "it's a luddite day!"--the coronavirus school shutdown equivalent of a snow day. that meant we were going up early.
we got at least a half-a-foot down in the 'low' lands which usually meant more up high. it would be nice to get first tracks. i got my skis ready and was out the door before 8:00a. we were the first two there and being a little earlier than skip, i got three 'bottom' runs in as he geared up. there was plenty of snow--i never saw those two little 'doggie bags'--even on that section where the base had completely melted. after we rounded the first corner, our poles never even hit solid.
it was wet~ish and stick~ish enough that we left skins in our packs and went sliding along fairly quickly. skip did some herringboning on the steep in the first ski trail section. my scales were holding pretty well, even clumping some. i took the saw out when we got into the second section and we trimmed out a prominent spine running along the brook. if we remembered to turn into the woods, we could avoid the big ditch.
when we got back on the main trail, we crossed a set of boot tracks with dog prints. while we were cutting, a snow boarder and his dog got up above us. skip thought he recognized him. we were tracking the ski sections and trimming things as we went, so he got well ahead of us. close to the waterfall section, he came sliding down. as he slowly went by skip asked how the conditions were, he admitted, "a bit slow."
we kept on going up and saw where he had turned at the top of the fourth section. we were hoping to top out at the cornice on the upper end of the chute. interestingly, the snow seemed to be less deep up high. while we crossed over to the east side on the hurricane trail, the sun was trying to break through and making it even stickier--way stickier. that short section also had some wicked whoop-de-doo drifts that would be a blast skiing.
the cornice at the top of the chute stopped us. we tightened our boots, locked down our bindings, skip shortened his poles, and gave me a social distance smile. as i snapped the picture of our tracks i got pretty excited--according to skip, this definitely had potential to be "the best skiing ever!"
i never took the camera back out and stopped for only a few heart beats, once to saw out a couple of beech branches on that "prominent spine" that i had missed. skip waited above until i got out of the way and zipped through the fairly clear line.
the skiing was a delight. and as minute by minute it was getting warmer and warmer--read stickier and slower--we had gotten in and out in good time. 'go out and play!' early and often was working its magic and making us smile.
ps--having written about the woman "yelling and swearing" about social distancing in "recon up west ridge trail...", heard the state fish and game folk's "covid-19 response" discourage risky adventures in the mountains, and read several articles like outside online's "you probably shouldn't be backcountry..." i am well aware of avoiding elevated risk and will be changing my 'go out and play!' activities to less risky and local. keep smiling, be safe, and be well.
it came down hard all evening and by the time we went up to bed, there was a good pile on top of the vehicles. we had our five inches already--and it was still snowing. it was also in the upper 20°s, and supposedly going to stay there. that meant i would be skiing in the morning. thank you goddesses!
tuesday: the plow went by around 3:30a and woke me. as i lay waiting for its return trip, i heard a telltale creeeck of the snow pack on the roof, releasing tension as it got ready to slide. they were coming only one or two every five minutes or so when the plow came back, around 4:00a. there was no way i was falling back to sleep.
i had an early breakfast with tea, while finishing up and posting a late, monday's 'word for the week' in ttyol. as soon as it got light enough, i put on my snow bibs and went out to shovel. at some point, i was surprised by pam, sticking her head out the door, "skip's on the phone." we had planned to meet up at cardigan 9:30~ish, after he remotely met with his students. his principal had called all that off with the announcement, "it's a luddite day!"--the coronavirus school shutdown equivalent of a snow day. that meant we were going up early.
we got at least a half-a-foot down in the 'low' lands which usually meant more up high. it would be nice to get first tracks. i got my skis ready and was out the door before 8:00a. we were the first two there and being a little earlier than skip, i got three 'bottom' runs in as he geared up. there was plenty of snow--i never saw those two little 'doggie bags'--even on that section where the base had completely melted. after we rounded the first corner, our poles never even hit solid.
it was wet~ish and stick~ish enough that we left skins in our packs and went sliding along fairly quickly. skip did some herringboning on the steep in the first ski trail section. my scales were holding pretty well, even clumping some. i took the saw out when we got into the second section and we trimmed out a prominent spine running along the brook. if we remembered to turn into the woods, we could avoid the big ditch.
when we got back on the main trail, we crossed a set of boot tracks with dog prints. while we were cutting, a snow boarder and his dog got up above us. skip thought he recognized him. we were tracking the ski sections and trimming things as we went, so he got well ahead of us. close to the waterfall section, he came sliding down. as he slowly went by skip asked how the conditions were, he admitted, "a bit slow."
we kept on going up and saw where he had turned at the top of the fourth section. we were hoping to top out at the cornice on the upper end of the chute. interestingly, the snow seemed to be less deep up high. while we crossed over to the east side on the hurricane trail, the sun was trying to break through and making it even stickier--way stickier. that short section also had some wicked whoop-de-doo drifts that would be a blast skiing.
the cornice at the top of the chute stopped us. we tightened our boots, locked down our bindings, skip shortened his poles, and gave me a social distance smile. as i snapped the picture of our tracks i got pretty excited--according to skip, this definitely had potential to be "the best skiing ever!"
i never took the camera back out and stopped for only a few heart beats, once to saw out a couple of beech branches on that "prominent spine" that i had missed. skip waited above until i got out of the way and zipped through the fairly clear line.
the skiing was a delight. and as minute by minute it was getting warmer and warmer--read stickier and slower--we had gotten in and out in good time. 'go out and play!' early and often was working its magic and making us smile.
ps--having written about the woman "yelling and swearing" about social distancing in "recon up west ridge trail...", heard the state fish and game folk's "covid-19 response" discourage risky adventures in the mountains, and read several articles like outside online's "you probably shouldn't be backcountry..." i am well aware of avoiding elevated risk and will be changing my 'go out and play!' activities to less risky and local. keep smiling, be safe, and be well.
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