What brought me to the Tahoe region this weekend was partly the general malaise I was feeling in Bend. It had begun to snow in earnest late Wednesday. This was real snow, the dry-ish kind, in sufficient amounts. But insufficient to spark the joy I needed from it. I needed an exit strategy, and found one in drier country. I headed south to California and spent Friday touring off the Mount Rose Highway with a fine group from Patagonia, one of The High Route’s supporters. The tour was a guided affair with a mixed group of skiers and boarders. This was also the second time I’ve skied as a “client.” A different tenor and goals than I’m used to. Over the years, I’ve bumbled here and there, learned some things, and mostly, gone at a pace that maybe prohibited lengthy conversations. Friday’s tour was at a more tempered pace. Which, it turns out, was a blessing.
We huddled in a tight circle with the guides, introduced ourselves, and stated our personal goals for the day. Let’s call it an icebreaker. I think I mentioned something about looking forward to getting to know some new people. Skiing a distant third. Those who know me understand that I think anything supportable is good snow. And I prefer a planar surface, but will adapt as needed. Remarkably, it was both. Firm at first. Then it softened. We found fine, if not excellent, skiing and riding.
