Title image: One day’s worth of snow.
Its clear Santa had me on the naughty list this year.
Earlier this week, an unprecedented storm was set to hit Western Washington.
The forecast called for over two feet at Snoqualmie Pass.
To drive up to the Pass in those conditions was a fools errand.
Sure, we had access to my partners Impreza, kitted out with studded tires.
But any Washingtonian knows it doesnt take much for WashDOT to lock down Snoqualmie Pass.
After all, we maritime folk arent particularly adept at snow driving.
We piled into the car in the morning anyway.
Itd be too long since Id skied deep snow, and the powder fever had come for me.
Fears of overnighting at the Pass werent enough to make me turn back.
I white-knuckled the steering wheel.
https://www.newschoolers.com/videos/watch/1059328/IMG-3640--1--mov
The drive up.
Video credit: Luca Hagmayer.
Can you blame me, though?
For many of us, the sights, sounds, and feelings of skiing seem to have changed.
Grass patches have replaced snow fields.
Dry spells haunt the mid-season.
Rising freezing levels have eradicated the long, snowy drives to the resort.
Powder skiing, once semi-common, now causes frenzied behavior among snow-starved skiers.
Its not rare to face enormous lines on weekdays.
This could be an issue of perception.
The snow is light and forgiving.
Falls, when they occur, are of lesser consequence.
Every drop is suddenly in play, flat landing or not.
Knees, once increasingly creaky with age, suddenly feel sprier.
We opted to do it all again the next day.
Alpental was opening back up.
I didnt care about the expensive lift tickets, the shitty road conditions, none of that.
That was all part of the deal.
It wouldnt be right to ski bottomless snow without a little pushback.
Pow days = big lines.
Luca, ever the speed demon, hadnt noticed, trucking along to our preferred destination.
We quickly stomped out a lip.
Berkeley hiked up the inrun and stated matter-of-factly, I just want to get this over with.
Luca went next, lacing a 360 with a minor backslap.
I was alone at the top of the inrun.
Doing tricks when youre a bit older is complicated, as saying fuck it becomes a lot harder.
I thought about serious injuries and emergency rooms.
Yet I knew that the best way to take this moment further was to roll the dice.
Storm days are all about rolling the dice.
I awkwardly shifted my skis in the deep snow, pointing them towards the lip as I gathered speed.
I leaned backward, my feet swung under me, and all I felt was impact.
Surprise and excitement mingled in my head.
https://www.newschoolers.com/videos/watch/1059330/IMG-2104-mov
Try and ignore my cackling.
Video credit: Luca Hagmayer.
I unleashed a volley of uncontrollable laughter, shocked that Id put it to my feet.
After a few tentative turns, I pulled up alongside Luca and Berkeley.
Fist bumps went around.
We paused to soak in the solitude of Alpental’s sidecountry.
The soft din of chairlifts churned in the distance.
But looking back, I think I got it wrong.
The storm day hasnt gone anywhere yet (although it might).
The lesson is this: The past offers plenty to look back on fondly.
Just dont linger there for too long.
The forecast will provide the goods again in the coming months or years.
Nothing can take that next storm day away from you.
